Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain completed
by Rondy Peredhil
Summary: What begins as Cloud's search to find himself at the end of the game canon, really turns out to be all a dream Sephiroth had. Is it possible that Cloud and Sephiroth are the same person? Rated R for male/male implications, and disturbing themes.
1. A Long Hard Road Out of Hell

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Brief summary: With the death of Sephiroth, something in Cloud dies, almost bringing him to the brink of a madman. Vincent attempts to console him, telling him that he and Cloud are very much alike in the respect that they mourn for the shell of a man that died not at the hands of Cloud, but back in Nibelheim when lies penetrated him. He was a man who was supposed to be the perfect soldier . . .

  
  


Prologue

  
  
  
  


The wind blew wisps of sun-blessed blonde hair around the boy's head. He looked sadly over frozen lands, his heart shattered and saved in one night. As he watched the Highwind depart slowly, away from all of the danger that surrounded the world, Lifestream crept quickly passed them, it's silver iridescence shimmering, blessing the night with the light of day. Its divine presence bore all mystery. It was a blessing from the spirits of the dead and long gone, offering the answers to the question of life's purpose itself. It swirled and danced around distance in an elaborate show of beauty, making the North Crater much more than a wound to the Planet. It made it a thing of beauty, just like itself. As meteor finally collapsed, ash rained down upon pure snow, even upon the pristine snow that was marred by the blood of a man who had failed to become something much more than human, more alien than science had made him . . .

  
  


"Cloud," a soft voice whispered, unevenly, shaken. The boy snapped out of his reverie, tensing visibly, his knuckles becoming white as he gripped the rail. He continued to feign awe as the strands of Lifestream wove together, spreading its healing touch to the Planet. His mouth became a hard line and hearing the voice behind him, that of one of his many friends along this ultimate victory amongst many small ones, almost made him sob. He blinked back a few tears and squeezed his sapphire eyes closed. Imbued with makou, he would never forget his uneasy past, emblazoned on a path made by Shinra. ". . . I see," the voice continued, sounding silenced of the emotion that it was willing to give up when it spoke the boy's name. 

_Cloud Strife . . ._

_Sephiroth . . ._

_Shinra . . . _

_SOLDIER . . . _

_SHINRA . . . . . . . ._

The voice faded, and along with it came its fading footsteps, but Cloud hardly noticed. In the back of his mind, a voice screamed at him. Vincent. It had been Vincent. Cloud slowly turned his head to find the man in a similar state as his own, leaning against the railing. Slowly, the raven-haired man flexed the finger-like claws of his mechanical arm and with the other, his long fingers memorized the cold unforgiving metal that had replaced flesh a long time ago. The rejoicing that filled the airship drowned in Cloud's head, making him dizzy as he stared at Vincent, knowing where his mind dwelled, where it had died against his own will. He only had the traces of love that he once knew to hold on to, a love to him that came with only one name, one destroyed soul who lived in a world of lies: Lucrecia. One such lie was given to her by Vincent, who only did so to keep the woman in her perfect shell of apathy. Vincent had lied that Sephiroth was dead, but now that was really an actuality. Cloud doubted Lucrecia knew anything about what occurred outside of her protective shell. This must have hurt Vincent greatly; that his Lucrecia was a shell of a woman now . . . just like how Sephiroth had been.

Cloud absently found himself drifting from the railing of the airship, only to be slapped hard on the back by the hand of Cid Highwind, who offered Cloud a toothy grin, a cigarette wedged between his lips, its potent smell and stream of smoke giving away who he was almost instantly to anyone aboard the Highwind.

  
  


"Kid, why the mopey-mope face?" Cid asked Cloud inquisitively. His large blue eyes twinkled in the night, giving them a sort of unreal depth, the Lifestream enhancing their brightness. Cid was happy to have Sephiroth's death over with, happy to have the Planet safe from him and Jenova, but he sensed that in Cloud's brooding makou eyes, he missed the man who had once been his idol. "Hey, Sephiroth was long dead, right? The man you admired was gone long ago, five years back in Nibelheim, wasn't he? Cheer up, Cloud. This should be a celebration! So get your scrawny ass into a good mood! It's no time to feel sorry for yourself!" With that, Cid gave Cloud an encouraging squeeze on his shoulder. Cloud stared ahead at Vincent sadly.

  
  


"Yeah," Cloud mumbled, "Sephiroth died five years ago, his former self washed in the flames of my birthplace." But he knew that as he murdered his former idol, as the Lifestream swallowed him, Sephiroth had released his mistake and begged for forgiveness, his mind filling Cloud's as he finally disappeared, and then his role of puppet had been severed. The last of Jenova's hold had died with this man. He was sure that Sephiroth was his old self as he died, his silence speaking in volumes. Cloud turned away as Cid left, concern crinkling his brows together. He began to cry silently. He was still a boy who depended on dreams, but now they were shattered, drifting with the wind as Lifestream played its magick and light bounced of Cloud's hair. He drowned in its warmth for a while, just standing there. Who was he?

  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter One

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Silver caught on silver, igniting a flame that stoked two fiery blades as much as it ignited a fierce storm of rage and exhilarating adrenaline in an inexperienced heart. A dance of boots on the pavement followed, claiming souls with the familiar clank, as if hollowness had spread throughout the population, sinking to the marrow with a tumultuous uproar.Broad of shoulder and chest, too muscular to be called a woman and too delicate to be identified as a swordsman, this first man proved them all wrong against any prophecy of failure at his sword-hand. In the throes of his new-found supplication, the other man fell, his shorter more frail frame denying him the right to even be called that of a man. He stared fixedly at the older man's calloused sword hands that gripped his weapon as it was an extension of his lean body, which was that of almost a serpent, but feral enough to be a cat's. The man waited, his glowing jade eyes awaiting the boy's blubbering to end. 

He wanted the boy to fight as if danger threatened him. In a way, it did, but in another way, this man would never harm the boy, only harden his resolve. He was merely a teacher to a poor student who had neglected the ways of SOLDIER and for that, he needed to be taught a valuable lesson: Life is not a game. This was not a camp or an easy walk through a park.

But to no avail.

The boy bobbed his blonde head, almost afraid to continue to stare at the man's silvery white hair cascade around his shoulders with the wind, his sword reminding him that this was this was the man he idolized: The only man who wielded such a sword, Masamune. For the thousandth time, the boy wondered - almost aloud this time - why President Shinra had allowed this sparring to take place. He was obviously far within the grasp of even being able to comprehend what this man was. 

He looked up again, a shame in his eyes and put a name to the feminine face that was deceptive to strength and the seduction of powerful magick: Sephiroth. Even in saying his name inside his head had strengthened his resolve more than Sephiroth himself had gained to. Whereas he felt broken and shamed a moment ago, renewed vigor returned to him.

  
  


"Sephiroth," cried the boy, fighting to stand ready with his blade, "I am Cloud Strife, and I came here to be like you. I want to know your strength and power!" he roared, wracking his thin frame. The man ahead of him laughed haughtily, looking upon him as only a face in a crowd who had confessed this to him. He let the Makou in his eyes coalesce, two pools becoming a window into what he truly was, but at that same instant, a wall clamped down in-between him and the boy, more durable than steel and blood. Cloud, for an instant, sensed chagrin in the man buried within the shell of a hard warrior. 

  
  


"Passion and fire in battle often will lead to rash decisions, which may prove to be fatal . . . and your last decision as well!" With this, Sephiroth charged unceremoniously at the boy, swinging sideways to catch the front of the sword with an upward arc which wrought the weapon free of his grasp that had made his small knuckles white with the exertion of doing so. A small whimper escaped the boy's throat as the weapon went flying over his blonde head. In a moment, he felt the blade of Sephiroth's Masamune at the hollow of his neck. The man smirked down at the boy, obviously amused. "Well, fetch your weapon, Cloud," he said, the boy's name rolling off his tongue as if it were a plague. His silvery hair, like a spider's spindly web, whispered about him like a brightness that fringed the dark that must have been buried in him. 

  
  


"I-If I move . . ." the boy protested, acknowledging that the blade at his throat was indeed real as blood threatened to coat the length of Masamune. Sephiroth, however, shook his head in a stately manner, placing a food down firmly over the hilt of Cloud's discarded sword, kicking it upward to land it in his empty hand. He then took a few steps backward, releasing the boy of his sword's foreboding bite. In his other hand, the Shinra sword extended toward him, reminding him once again of the reality that pain was real. He accepted the sword, understanding that Sephiroth only sought to help him understand the craft of the sword, and battle as a bonus also. Sephiroth spoke, his hard voice that hardly complimented the delicate silver that wisped and twirled and danced like flames. Silently, Cloud wondered what the man was like when not doing this, his exertion and exhaustion clearly known, but never shown openly. Cloud was amazed, cowed by awe, hardly realizing as Sephiroth swung his attention to him once more, his Makou eyes studying him with intensity. 

  
  


"Distracted, are we?" Sephiroth asked, no emotion to determine either in the planes of his entirely smooth face or his voice. With that, he turned on a heel. "Practice," was all that he said before he was gone. Cloud blinked after the man, looking down at the hilt of the Shinra sword. His sapphire eyes grew hard, mustering up all of his nerve, and then he ran after the receding image of the man's leather battle uniform flapping behind him in the wind. The boy ran after him, even being as bold to tug the man on his forearm. Sephiroth merely looked down at him. "What?" he asked, returning his attention to the halls of Shinra's Head Quarters, leaving the training facilities behind. 

  
  


"Uhm, I . . ." Cloud could not get passed these words, no matter how much he tried. Sephiroth only walked ahead. Whether he was being patient or ignoring Cloud completely was not known, but as he continued to struggle to find something to say, Sephiroth reached the elevator and at its door, swung to look intensely at the boy.

  
  


"What do you expect me to say, Cloud?" Sephiroth asked, smiling slightly, clearly amused. The boy did not even dare to look up at the man. Frustration showed in the crease between his two sun-colored brows. He was also clearly shaking. "Hmm," was all that Sephiroth said to this as he turned to push the button on the elevator. Cloud's voice then sliced through the air, halting the push of the button.

  
  


"I'm sorry," he said, never looking up from the floor. Sephiroth turned, his leather swinging with him with a crisp sound, looking down at Cloud unexpectedly. 

  
  


"Raise your face and your eyes," Sephiroth said bluntly. Cloud obeyed, watching Sephiroth awkwardly, almost feeling like bolting as the man studied him. This amused the man as well. "What _are_ you afraid of, boy? What did you apologize for? Your attempt was earnest, and although not the best first attempt I have ever seen, you do show promise. Is this what you are afraid of? That you would not meet my approval?" Slowly, the boy nodded, combing through his messy blonde hair. When he had joined SOLDIER, he had cut off the ponytail that had tamed his shoulder length hair through his childhood. He didn't regret it at all. It was part of his old life. Sephiroth smiled a bit sadly at the boy and then abandoned him in a hurry, disappearing behind the elevator door. Cloud stared on in confusion, thinking he had surely not gained favor with the man. He had remained worthless, just as though his failure to be somebody in his hometown was branded upon his forehead to be forever carried with him. He sighed as the elevator gave a small dinging sound and changed to the sixty-eighth floor, currently a laboratory where Hojo had made his home in place of Professor Gast. 

*****

  
  
  
  
  
  


" . . . . I'm afraid he isn't doing so well," a familiar voice said, drifting from outside of Cloud's door as if it were a distant ghost, something he couldn't reach. Soft goose down blanketed him, protecting him from anything outside of his mind. The voices floated around him, barely acknowledged. It took him an eternity to understand that whoever outside was engaged in a conversation with someone else on the phone, an even longer still that that person was speaking about him. Silently, he put a name to that person, who he could only identify as Vincent Valentine. His voice was low, rare, and a kind of sadness that always came with it was fringed with worry. Clearly, he did not want to speak with whomever it was on the other end of the line. He listened for a while, wrapped up in the blankets that Vincent had clearly provided for him. 

As he finally shut his eyes, the door creaked open. Cloud held them shut, hiding in the goose down from the man he should have been running to, rather than running from. He heard Vincent move almost silently through the room, then felt the bed shift as he calmly and gently sat on the bed next to Cloud's supposedly sleeping form. A minute went by. It was an impossibly agonizing stretch of time for Cloud. He could almost feel the blood red, almost brown eyes that Vincent had bore into his mind, but thankfully after a time, the brooding man spoke.

  
  


"I know that you're awake," Vincent said slowly, almost apologetically in one long sigh. Cloud nodded, slowly opening one sapphire eye at a time, makou meeting the glow that was left in Vincent's long dead eyes, only kept alive by the experimentation that he was subjected to by Shinra's scientist, Hojo, who had replaced the work of the genius that preceded him, Professor Gast. Vincent didn't say anything else. His soft glance encompassed Cloud, replacing any words that could have fit . None of them would have anyway. Cloud marveled at the man sitting next to him, once more uneasy with his silent unspoken words. Vincent had taught him that sometimes words were not needed, but in this instance, Vincent was waiting for Cloud to speak to him. Cloud understood, and slowly sat upright, glancing to the left side of the bed he had been lying in for an unknown amount of time where his armor was laid out neatly on a dresser.

  
  


"Where am I?" he asked, nervously working his hands through his blonde hair.

  
  


"You tell me," came Vincent's response. He stared at Cloud, wanting to know an answer to where his mind had withdrawn, but he had known that as soon as Sephiroth died, a part of the boy had died as well. It was the same in Vincent's case. When he had been a Turk, having Lucrecia stolen from him by Hojo who just merely wanted a specimen to train from birth, it had shattered Vincent completely. He had never been there to protect his love from the harm of Hojo. The man had punished him for knowing what he was doing was not only morally wrong, but would certainly ruin any chance of a normal life for the baby who would grow up as a mere toy of science. His punishment for not being there to help his Lucrecia was an eternity of sleep and he often regretted having joined up with Cloud and his party. He told himself it was a way for him to atone himself. If he could free Sephiroth of the lies that bound him to insanity and Jenova, perhaps it would mean the difference for Lucrecia to know that Sephiroth was alive and well, but now was it was different; entirely different. He could only tell himself this once and over again a million times in his thoughts as he gazed down at Cloud. This boy shared a sorrow alike to his. He had lost who he was, and Vincent believed that he had lost himself too when he could do nothing for Lucrecia but live through unspeakable nightmares in restless sleep. 

  
  


"I want to know why," Cloud began, something of hidden tears in his voice, " . . . why he had to be corrupted. Why I had to follow that with undying admiration. I want to know why that blurs the lines between know I think I am and who I really am." To this, Vincent smiled sadly.

  
  
  
  


"I think you need to rest a bit more," the man said, standing. His raven hair spilled over his cape as did, slightly turning away from Cloud, but then turned back for a moment. "And you'll need to answer that yourself, Cloud Strife, but it does not mean that you will ever be alone. No, not like I," he said, his last sentence hanging in the air like a fading note upon a violin, something to contemplate over. With that, Vincent left the room, deftly lacing his fingers through his hair in an idle motion as he closed the door and faded down the hall like the specter he so represented.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Vincent's Nightmares, Cloud's Shattered ...

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Brief summary: With the death of Sephiroth, something in Cloud dies, almost bringing him to the brink of a madman. Vincent attempts to console him, telling him that he and Cloud are very much alike in the respect that they mourn for the shell of a man that died not at the hands of Cloud, but back in Nibelheim when lies penetrated him. He was a man who was supposed to be the perfect soldier . . .

  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter Two 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Sad notes filled the stagnant heavy air of the laboratory, but upon them a lilting beauty and happiness rolled off with the careful artistry of its musician. The air of Nibelheim's small close knitted community drifted through a window recently opened and a few birds danced upon the pane, joining in sometimes on the notes that drifted to them, their heads cocking as if listening with content and contemplating the meaning of each one that was birthed into the world.

  
  


"Can I open my eyes now?" a woman's voice whispered, sultry and almost giddy with the enjoyment of the sound. Beside her, Vincent Valentine sat perched upon a discarded desk, a dinner he had brought to this woman he was so fond of, his Lucrecia. He smiled, satisfied that beneath the scrap of material, his love's eyes were bright, their blue depths shining. Vincent's eyes matched hers, a dark navy complimented by the inside shards of ice surrounding his pupils. Slowly, his violin came to a stop, it's harmony fading in the air as if it didn't want to leave. Vincent reached a hand out to softly caress Lucreica's cheek, then placed his other on her hand that was clutched in her lap as if holding onto he last fading notes of Vincent's violin. He slowly removed the material over his love's eyes to savor looking into them. Once he removed it, she smiled at him warmly, full of love, and kissed him softly, almost agonizingly so. "I didn't know you played," the woman breathed. Vincent smiled again, this time almost sadly as he touched her feathery soft hair, moving through the wavy thickness that was a glorious chestnut to undo it from its bun and run his hands through the full length.

  
  


"There are many things you don't know about me, my Lucreicia," Vincent said in a whisper, regretfully. As he did, the door to the basement laboratory swung open to reveal the frail form of Hojo, who was carrying a box of experimentation tools. Mostly beakers, tubes, and unnameable fluids resided there. Both Vincent and Lucrecia jumped with a start. Vincent was now standing next to Lucrecia, an arm snaked around her almost possessively. Hojo stared at Vincent with hatred.

  
  


"Young love. How sweet. Get off the premises, Turk. There is fragile work that needs to be attended to," Hojo seethed, arching his back upwards slightly so that he did not appear as easy to fell. In actuality, Hojo was quite strong. Experimentation of earlier scientists, especially Professor Gast, had associated alien tissue with that of a human's. Cells inside of that alien form were known to induce vitality and renewed vigor. However, this did not slow the aging process and made the patients dependant upon the cells of Jenova, for once their cells were mutated, a strange occurrence would happen. These mutated cells would spread like a disease and take over the cells that had been damaged, feeding off of weakness to grow strong, multiplying in number by this process, much in the way a disease might concur a person. The Jenova cells, upon being carried to the brain then began to enhance it, along with endurance, but Jenova's gifts came with a price. The Jenova cells and their disease-like qualities would soon die, for they would attack each other. More dosages would be needed to sustain the patient, for within their mind the cells created a stimulus. It was like a drug, not without its comedowns. This comedown was withdrawal. Without being fed more cells, without being linked to Jenova in whatever shape way or form, came this comedown which eventually led to death. Most of the patients subjected to this procedure would die upon the first few of the dosages, for this had a great impact upon the person's body and thought process in a fast duration of time.

  
  


"If that is what you wish, sir," Vincent said after some time, reluctantly releasing Lucrecia to collect his things. The whole while, he could feel Hojo's eyes boring into him. His eyes of course must have been on the blue suit he wore, something that bound Vincent to a reputation of ruthlessness. He was, in fact, a sniper. He gave Lucrecia a look of longing; that he would need her love while he was gone. Lucrecia stood, looking down as Hojo now looked down upon her. Vincent began walking swiftly toward the door, staring incredulously at him as he left.

*****

  
  
  
  


Vincent sat cradled within the confined dark space of the room's closet, silently missing his coffin as he hung his wrist above the bar, his clawed mechanical arm by his side. He sighed, a long deep sound that came from deep beneath his chest. He lowered his flesh arm and cradled the mechanical one with it, absently joining them together, fingers and claws intertwining. Dark, almost blackish blood dripped from his fingers and he squeezed these two together. He was beast and man, a man with only a haunting past and nothing more. There was nothing to look forward to, he was almost sure of it.

  
  


"Vincent?" a voice asked, very near to the door of the closet that must have belonged to Cloud. Its adolescence had never fled throughout his journey, his conquest to vanquish no other than his idol, his hero.

  
  


"Yes?" Vincent asked from behind the door. He leaned back, pulling his legs close to his chest as best as he could. The blood that dripped down the fingers of his left hand began to dry and Vincent timidly handled the hand as though it were an injured paw. He began to lick the wounds clean and then once the task was finished, his gently took the blood from his clawed hands. During this time, Cloud was on the other side of the door, remaining quiet.

  
  


". . .Can I talk to you?" Cloud finally said. From Cloud's voice, he was clearly upset. The man had sensed this negative feel from the moment he had gotten up, had awoken from a dream of the past . . .

  
  
  
  


"Yes," Vincent said in response and eased the door open. Cloud stood before him, disheveled and tired looking. His eyelids drooped over half of his eyes lazily as he studied Vincent, who looked uneasy as always, nothing else. Cloud's eyes then slid to the cuts healing on Vincent's fingers and he looked down into the man's eyes questioningly. He noticed how dilated Vincent's pupils were, which slit like a cat's from time to time, making their red color much more threatening. He knew the dreams that would always follow Vincent when sleep came, claiming his soul to reap its benefits with him. Slowly, Vincent stood and left his makeshift closest behind, looking at it forlornly as he neared the door. He sourly missed his coffin . . . being entombed where he should have stayed, a protective darkness hanging over him. Why had he ever been awoken?

  
  


"When we came to the Shinra mansion," Cloud began, staring down at the floor, "we didn't think that you would join us. Well . . . AVALANCHE progressed into something much bigger. We knew that. But . . . I didn't expect all of what happened to actually happen . . ."

  
  


"You didn't expect that Sephiroth would be your main goal?" Vincent asked, knowing the answer. He came upon the kitchen, Cloud walking behind him, half asleep. 

  
  


"No . . . and I never . . . expected he would die. Not at my hands," Cloud sighed, looking at the palms of his hands where he had gripped the hilt of his ultimate weapon. They had been slick with blood when he had murdered Sephiroth. He cringed at staring at his hands, almost feeling the warm red liquid slide through his fingers again. Cloud closed his eyes and was startled as Vincent guided him to a chair, his flesh hand upon the boy's shoulder. He did this half for balance, half for reassurance. His gentleness with the boy was almost fatherly, rather than out of the friendship Cloud thought they had established. He was greeted with a sad look.

  
  


"The others," Cloud muttered. "What's going on?"

  
  


"They understand that this is not an easy thing for you to get over. They wish you luck, but they also wish that they could add strength," Vincent said, sitting across from Cloud.

  
  


"And . . . and you're doing that for them, Vincent?" Cloud asked, almost sounding scared. Vincent laughed, such an unusual thing that Cloud's trepidation of this man was heightened.

  
  


"Relax Cloud," Vincent said evenly, studying Cloud's face, and then looking away. He sighed, almost laughing again. "You remind me so much of myself, Cloud. And yet, you've managed to become so much more. Can't you see that you've grown?" Somehow, sharing all of this with the young man, Vincent felt liberated somewhat. He had not laughed in a span of time that seemed to resemble an eternity of hellish nightmares that surrounded him. 

  
  


"I got what I wanted," Cloud said numbly. "When I was younger, I wanted to be famous, known. Well, now I'm going to be known as the broken boy who killed Sephiroth who had rose too high on clipped wings, wings of freedom he never had." The contempt in Cloud's voice made Vincent return to his surrounding, but he did not dare look as Cloud put his head down on the table, sure that his head was dizzy with memories and faded hopes. Perhaps they should all make new hopes and new dreams for a world that was rid of Shinra, rid of waste from the mass pollution of Hell brought to the living. Vincent's eyes then drifted to the open window and as a bird rested on the pane, Vincent drifted back into the Hell of his nightmares, tumbling toward inward hate all over again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Cloud's First SOLDIER mission: A Mysteri...

  
  


Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

  
  


Brief summary: With the death of Sephiroth, something in Cloud dies, almost bringing him to the brink of a madman. Vincent attempts to console him, telling him that he and Cloud are very much alike in the respect that they mourn for the shell of a man that died not at the hands of Cloud, but back in Nibelheim when lies penetrated him. He was a man who was supposed to be the perfect soldier . . .

  
  
  
  


Chapter Three

  
  
  
  


Zack smiled crookedly and tossed a few bread crumbs into the air at the sea gulls that swooped over the boat, which had just departed from the Junon Harbor area. There was a small dock by the town of Kalm where the earnest boat was headed. Above the bow, a few gulls fought for a place upon the bar. Zack looked on in morbid fascination, as if a child, hardly noticing as Sephiroth (who was accompanied by two SOLDIER members, as was regular) approached him, his arms crossed over his chest. The man cleared his throat, forcing Zack to turn, startled by his sudden appearance. He had not seen the man since the docked ship had been loaned to them by the captain, a man named Zahv Clove, who stood at the front of the vessel encased within something that resembled the cockpit of a plane. The silver-haired man stared narrowly at Zack and then relieved his gaze upon him by looking up to the sky, clear and beautiful. Stars, beautiful frozen imprints of time upon the vast universe, almost seemed to hold the facets that some treasures did, twinkling in the hearts of lost men who were caught by the imprint of the universe in their deeds, memories holding them bound to the sky. 

Zack contemplated the sad look that had formed on Sephiroth's face. One of the guards scrambled to the edge of the boat and Zack felt it slowly rock under his feet, the engine just starting up. The SOLDIER guard, feeling the moon's enchanting force over them, and the swaying edginess of the vessel, couldn't help but succumb to a stomach that churned as if it were handling thick spans of butter, rather than the half-digested acidic remains of a slight meal. Zack smiled and patted the kid's head sympathetically, a shocking spurt of blond hair the color of the sun itself poking out of the uniform's helmet.

  
  


"We're departing for Kalm now, on our way back to Midgar. I don't understand why the president is sending us out on these pointless trips for power plant potential," Zack muttered. " . . . I suppose the fat bat just wants to still feel powerful, even though Shinra incorporated means fear itself on the streets of Midgar's slums." The quiet words soon died in the engine's soft humming as it floated away, the hopelessly sick guard hanging of the edge, his face flushed as he emptied what remained in his stomach until all that did remain to be emptied was bile, and he gagged back on it. Zack refused to think of how young these SOLDIER recruits were getting, but after all, he wasn't so old in this business either. Being led by Sephiroth certainly reminded Zack of how long one could remain in something that seemed so . . . futile. SOLDIER was the purpose for protecting Shinra's company and the interests it wished to keep. Zack knew that those interests were based souly on power. Those motives had produced Makou, and with that, everything else died, including the peace the Planet once had . 

  
  


"Hmmph," Sephiroth harumphed. "You still don't know anything about Shinra, do you, Zack?" Sephiroth asked, breaking his hold from the heavens to stare levelly at the man whose height was helped greatly by the spiky lengths of raven hair that rested a few inches above his head. Zack blinked a few times, alarmed by Sephiroth's simple statement. The guard at his side stared at his feet as if scrutinizing them closely, and then looked up as another gull swooped about the bow and rested on a crate that was near to him. "You see, I have studied Shinra's motives ever since Professor Gast died, leaving me completely vulnerable to Hojo's experiments," Sephiroth said, his voice growing more vindictive when he came to Hojo's name. Zack was further alarmed that the man had just spoke something that was part of his past. So, it seemed even when appearing completely loyal to the company that he had grown up around, Sephiroth, the perfect sentinel, could be vengeful. There were rumors that Sephiroth was a broken man formed by Shinra. Not many knew of the experiments that went on behind Shinra's locked doors, and it seemed that the majority didn't really care either way. They were perfectly happy being in inorant bliss. 

  
  


Zack waited for Sephiroth to continue, but he never did. He simply hardened his resolve and left, joining the captain as he steered toward the murky waters that surrounded Midgar. Zack watched as the guard wh had never left Sephiroth side leave after him. 

  
  
  
  


" . . . I'm not doing a very good job," the guard that hung off of the boat said wearily,becoming less flushed as the air sailed through his ruffled hair and over his hot cheeks, which began to fade to a light pink rather than a sickly red. Zack sighed and patted the kid on his head again, taking the helmet from him and setting it on the crate the sea gull had landed on. It cocked its head at Zack, rolling an eye up at him and spread its wings as if it were proclaiming the crate its territory, then began to peck at the helmet, searching for little morsels. 

  
  
  
  


"What's your name, kid?" Zack asked as he fed a bit of bologna from his half eaten sandwhich, which he had not eaten himself. He simply didn't feel very hungry and gave it to the sea gulls who always lounged about when boats were departing.

  
  
  
  


" . . .Erm, Strife. Cloud Strife," the guard said, hugging the railing as if for protection. Watchng the waves didn't seem to be doing any good for his stomach so he looked up at the stars and silently looked for all of the constellations he knew about. Cloud frowned, remembering he had been looking up at the stars with Tifa Lockheart when he had last been at his hometown, Nibelheim. 

  
  
  
  


"Mine's Zack," the man grinned, extending a hand to the slight fellow. "Nice ta meetcha," he added. Cloud shook his hand with little heart and returned to the stars.

  
  
  
  


"Not very social, are you?" Zack asked, laughing a little. Cloud blinked, not bothering to look back at the man. "Reminds me of Sephiroth. That man never talks about anything but the damn Shinra. I guess he's just that devoted to his work, huh?"

  
  
  
  


"Sephiroth . . . told me there was no reason for the president to send us to Junon," Cloud muttered. 

  
  
  
  


"Huh?" Zack asked, confused. "He told you that?"

  
  
  
  


"Well . . . he was talking to himself, I suppose . . ." Cloud said. "There was no potential Makou Power Plant here. He said the only thing that hindered the production of it was the shipments that are stored in the Sister Ray canon."

  
  


"Well, I'll be damned," Zack blinked in amazement. "You always sneak up on people like that?"

  
  
  
  


"No. I suppose Sephiroth didn't care if anyone was eavesdropping. He does have honed senses, after all."

  
  
  
  


"What else did he say?" Zack asked. The boy shook his head, timidly placing it between his hands.

  
  
  
  


"He . . . said something about a person there who had a great abundance of makou in their blood."

  
  


*****

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Cloud," a distant voice said, begging the boy to awaken. The boy drifted in hazy feelings, only having that voice to reassure him that maybe he wasn't dead after all. Everything was becoming a blur, but his memories kept swimming back to him. Everything that had ever been confused with finding himself in Zack's life had been rapidly coming back to him, cleared up. He had struggled to keep himself going when a glimpse of what he really was was given to him by a man wrought by Jenova's lies. Now, without Sephiroth holding a block over everything that didn't fit into the puzzle that was his mind, Cloud could think, but the same hazy unknowingness swirled around in his mind, and gripped his heart so tight that he couldn't feel anything but pain. "Cloud!" He was shaken now, but the fuzzy light inside his head refused to go away and he could feel himself literally shaking so hard to he feared he was hurting Vincent, who stood on the other side of the wall Cloud's mind refused to relent.

  
  
  
  


Won't you let someone in? Cloud whispered within his mind.

  
  
  
  


_Like who? The Ancient, the last of her kind? She's dead now, gone forever with any peace this Planet ever had._

  
  
  
  


That's not my fault! Cloud screamed, but it only echoed in his mind, a distant whisper.

  
  
  
  


_You could have stopped it._

  
  
  
  


_Cloud?_ _Cloud, are you there?_ Two bright green eyes opened in his mind's eye illuminated by a blinding light he associated with the Lifestream. The rest formed, a perfect image of an innocent woman who had tried to purify the Planet. With her arms outstretched, she beckoned him to something he had yet to know of. Her chestnut waves of long braided hair, from when he remembered it, now cascaded down her slender back and her features from beyond there were blurred. _Open your eyes, Cloud. Let these lies die in the voice of the Planet. _Aerith's form died away, along with the blinding light that surrounded her. Carefully obeying her, he was surrounded by a multitude of sounds, and above it all, the Plabnet's healing cries. 

  
  
  
  


"Are you all right?" Vincent asked, his crimson eyes shadowed by worry. The man had his flesh hand upon Cloud's shoulder, the other at his side. He was kneeling by Cloud's chair where he knew he had fainted from the flooding memories. Cloud smiled and gave Vincent a quick friendly hug.

  
  
  
  


"I will be," he said. Vincent stood and looked at Cloud oddly, a wry smile quirking at his lips. 

  
  
  
  


"That is good to hear," he said, then recognized the expression of determination on Cloud's face, questioning it a bit with his eyes.

  
  
  
  


"I need to find someone," Cloud said, "who holds a strange familiarity in my memories . . . and I don't know why."


	4. The Flames of Nibelheim

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

  
  
  
  


Chapter Four

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_The call of Jenova was great. At the time, I could only see through heavy-lidded eyes; eyes that had glowed like a soldier's. In actuality, I had never even become a member of SOLDIER, let alone a first class ranking one. Zack, a guy who I met while joining on a mission to be a guard, pitied me. I could never understand it, but I guess the guy saw something in me that I myself didn't. I was a nobody and half of the time I didn't care. I idolized someone whom I knew I could never emulate, but Zack made me realize that maybe I wasn't getting the point, that I should become strong in knowing that if I do my best, it doesn't matter. In a way, I was using my idol to become something more. But I never did become anything._

  
  


_Zack told me a lot of things, I guess. He talked a lot, and sometimes that was the only thing that made me focus on reality. It was probably why I didn't become insane. I remember now that after going back home, I watched someone who I had fed off even though I was too weak to become anything aside from a guard, set fire to whom I was. My mother was dead. I remember later in some dank abyss, Zack told me things about Sephiroth, what he had found out about before we had gotten to where we did. I listened, but I knew most of it, especially about my mother. The image of her trapped in an unreachable part of a home I had considered cozy, her skin melting away with the searing hot flames of the fire . . . it was burned into my brain as if my mind was alight with it, too. I remember standing outside the door of my home. It was a home I had lived in for fourteen years, and knew for sixteen, and now it was dying like a faded memory. There was no one outside. Zack and Master Zangan had already searched for survivors, but I wasn't thinking of that then. I suppose I wasn't thinking about anything rather than the searing flames and how all of it had to be a nightmare. _

  
  


_When I had finally come to some revelation, I remembered Zack, frantic but trying to keep cool for my sake, telling me he would go to the Mt. Nibel reactor. He had blamed it on Sephiroth, and that had made me lapse into even more of a dream world, but then, as I thought back on that, I figured I would make use of myself, of my enragement. How could Sephiroth have done such a thing? It didn't make sense, but I hated him for it. Tears burned on my cheeks and blinded my vision as I fled from the flames. I didn't care about anything but vengeance. And I knew I stood no chance at all against Sephiroth, but my death wouldn't matter. It would put an end to the hazy torches of fire and the image of my mother, dead, surrounded and bathing in flames. _

  
  


_Getting there was no problem, I knew the route to take. A memory of Tifa getting hurt because of me on this same journey made me get there even faster, but I could feel myself shaking and I knew I was edgy as hell. Anger made me reckless, and then I was anything but. I could feel adrenaline rushing through me, and it made my head and heart pound, but I was finally there. I came upon a Shinra experiment room labeled "Jenova", remembering Sephiroth telling me to guard Tifa. She couldn't come because Shinra's secrets were behind the doors of the reactor. I hated Shinra, Sephiroth and everything else at the moment and seeing on this road that Zack had fallen injured trying to stop Sephiroth made me even more angry. I didn't feel remorse and I didn't feel scared, I just felt an overwhelming anger. Zack had promised that coming on this particular mission would pay off. He said that because it was dealing with monsters in particular, formed by a malfunctioned reactor, that I would be able to witness a taste of Sephiroth's power. I made sure that Zack was alive, although I noticed a sickle arc running from the hollw of his neck to his navel that could only be the bite of Masamune, Sephiroth's sword. I refused to see the blood, I just snapped my attention away and ran up the stairs, taking Zack's sword with me. I ran away beyond capsules that resembled eggs and through the door labeled "Jenova" . . . and I realized that was what Sephiroth had called his mother. Jenova. _

  
  


_Sephiroth stood upon jumbled wires that disappeared within a large tank, covered in blood. He was throwing a mangled statue aside after caressing the features of its face. As he turned around and looked up at me, an insane look in his eyes and a broad smile, I could see the cold fire that blazed from his makou eyes and my blood boiled. Half of his face was hidden in his almost knee-length silver hair and from where I was, he looked like a bloody god, having bathed himself in the blood of my hometown first, the blood of Zack second, and third, in the blood of Jenova itself. It hung suspended in a watery fluid, more alien looking than anything else I had ever seen, and yet it still managed to have a vague human form, that of a woman. I confronted that man, who looked tainted and ugly in the beauty that he once had._

  
  
  
  


_" . . . Traitor," Sephiroth said, low and calm, his frightening smile leaving his face as he spoke it, which surprised me. There was no insanity in his voice. He was calm and cool, standing there with his Masamune raised, drenched in blood, like himself. He looked down at his hands and started laughing. It was an eery, frightening sound, but my anger still raged at his lack of regret. "They were traitors, Cloud. All of them. You are no different." He turned around and ran his fingers down the glass of the enclosed prison Jenova was held in, his blood soaked gloves leaving a trail over where they traced. Sickly laughter followed once more. "Mother was destined to rule the planet with her superior power and knowledge. Your people stole that right from mother." He paused then to laugh again. "I was given orders to give the Cetra back their peace.We will take it back from you, the ancestors of our traitors, Cloud, by regaining the Promised Land, and mother and I will rule it together."_

  
  
  
  


_"I thought that I could trust you. You were my idol . . . and you've torched my dreams," I remember saying. Slowly, my anger began to threaten my resolve and more tears filled my eyes. I know I swiped at them futiley. God knows that at that moment I didn't want to be weak. I didn't even want to be a person. But I was realizing that that would put myself on the level of this . . . this monster. He appeared human, but I knew something in him died. Somehow, I had used that to my advantage. I tried to stab him when he was upon the path that brought us to Jenova, the heart of the reactor, and instead the man fell into the depths of the reactor. I thought him dead for sure. All I could hear was his sickening laughter as he fell,and a cold rush of wind brush against my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I heard nothing for a while, but a muffled groan coming from the Jenova chamber stirred me from watching Sephiroth's form recede into the darkness, embracing the rushing air with his cackle. _

  
  
  
  


_" . . . Zack," I whispered, shaking him gently. He looked up at me with makou-blue eyes, and shook his head a bit as if to clear away haziness. I thought that he would have been dead by now, but I had managed to help him out of the reactor and back to the Shinra Mansion gate. From there, I couldn't go on and neither could Zack. The weight of everything that had just happened was too much for us both and upon the scorched land of Nibelheim, both of us lay unconscious, spinning in a dark black world of nothingness for what seemed like forever._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Waking up, I didn't realize that I would soon wish I had been slain by Sephiroth . The air that surrounded me was heavy and everything glowed with a faint green, stinging my eyes and lungs as I took in each breath, blinked each blink. I felt as if the gravity itself were weighing me down, and the air was almost impossible to breath. I remember peering through that mist-like green, and realizing I was suspended within a tank that instantaneously reminded me of Sephiroth . . . and Jenova. A man's face leered into mine behind heavy-lense glasses, and he smiled in such a way that it made me shiver, and such a task could be accomplished by floating there anyway. I had watched my feet dangle, on the verge of unconsciousness in that tank many times, while listening to Zack as he desperately tried to keep me alive. We found out from this man, who happened to be Hojo of Shinra incorporated, that where we were being kept was the basement of the Shinra Mansion. What happened there I cannot even begin to tell you, and half of it I can't tell you anyway. During Hojo's experimentations on me and Zack, everything was a blur, but I know there was pain. There was always pain. I would not even open my eyes, for the day was meaningless and greeting it was pointless._

  
  


_The only thing I remember vividly was Hojo's reason for the experimentations. Both me and Zack were injected with Jenova cells and in our prison we were exposed to high degrees of makou. Hojo revealed that we would be special experimentations in the Jenova project. Continuing Professor Gast's research, Hojo devoted himself to learning about Jenova as much as he could. We were told Sephiroth's story, of how he was nothing but an experiment. Hojo had used Sephiroth to study the effects of Jenova on the body and the mind, and later on used members of SOLDIER or people who could take the dosages of Jenova and high degrees of makou used to enhance them. They, undergoing the same experimentation process as Sephiroth, were deemed his clones. Once these clones could be fully termed so, tattoo markings in Roman numerals were given to them, usually being found on their right arm. Sephiroth, being the first to undergo this procedure was the Alpha Specimen, as Hojo called him. I was to be the Omega Specimen. I had forced myself to watch countless times as Zack pulled off the tough guy act with Hojo many times. During one of his more crude experiments which required the testing of the physical endurance makou and the Jenova cells gave the body, Zack would lie completely still on Hojo's experimenting table in such a way that I never knew if he was alive or not, but he was always returned to his prison of makou beside mine, making snide jibes at the "good doctor", and I do use that term loosely. _

  
  


_It was a while before Hojo came to begin experimentation on me. I was brought rations once and a while like Zack, but I also felt as if I were dead, which was a far worse torture then having to take Zack's place. Inside, my emotions were gone. I felt hopelessness. Then, as Hojo finally got sick of Zack's resistence to the call of Jenova, I was made to start my experimentation. When I returned after my abuse later in the day, Zack would keep me conscious, telling me false stories of hope. He said he would gain strength if I would and leave this horrible place behind us to return to Midgar, but he never told me about what we were going to do once we got to Midgar, which is why I thought escaping was hopeless. Apparently, so did Zack._

  
  
  
  


_After a while, I heard voices calling me and I felt such a nagging pull, such a desire to fulfil the pleas that cried in my mind. I thought that I had finally gone insane, and that's when I had started to suffer from Makou Poisoning. Hojo had drowned me in so much that it was killing me slowly, and the voices in my head only made the pain so much worse. Of course, Hojo had found out about them, and had stated that finally "one of his Jenova-X specimens was responding to the experimentations". At that point, I was never left alone. I was never healed of my Makou Poisoning, and I dared not to say anything at all. I didn't cooperate with Hojo's questions, I never showed any real resistence. I just didn't care, and it was breaking Zack's heart. Hojo told us later that there was to be a reunion of the clones with Jenova herself in two years, accompanied by Sephiroth. Hojo's experimentation with us at that time would be to keep us here while Sephiroth, his clones, and Jenova were brought together at the end of what he called the Alpha-Omega differentiation. I didn't understand him . . . I had thought Sephiroth dead. Since I had been put through many of the things Sephiroth had faced his whole life (while he still resisted Jenova's call all the time), I suddenly didn't hate him anymore. I pitied him. _

  
  


_Now knowing that Sephiroth was his own son, I find him even more of an asshole. And . . . knowing that Lucrecia was chosen to "mate with him in order to produce to correct offspring specimen", as he said it, makes me sick . . . and even though I can't make these memories -- or yours for that matter -- go away, I'm relieved that I can finally know who I am. I've been blind for a while in many more ways than one. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Vincent gave a deep sigh, still staring at Cloud levelly as he had the whole time he had relayed this information to him. He too was an experiment, and hearing in full what Sephiroth was had made him feel like he owed Lucrecia even more. His eyes fluttered closed, and when he opened them, Cloud was pacing back and forth, a stubborn look on his face.

  
  
  
  


"Are you okay?" he asked. "Because I still need to tell you the other half of this story."

  
  
  
  


"No, I'm fine, Cloud. It just seems like my burden grows with everyone's tale," Vincent replied forlornly. Cloud scowled a bit, choosing not to get too much into Vincent's problems. Later, maybe the others would help the distraught man, but Cloud didn't want to bother. His help wasn't much of the meaning of it. It rather fit under the category of the destruction of one's soul, he thought. At one time, he wouldn't have given a flying shit anyway it went, but Cloud did now want to see Vincent get over the idea of atonement. What happened with Lucrecia and Sephiroth had not been his fault . . .


	5. He Wasn't a Monster

  
  


Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  
  
  
  
  


******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

  
  
  
  
  
  


Brief summary: With the death of Sephiroth, something in Cloud dies, almost bringing him to the brink of a madman. Vincent attempts to console him, telling him that he and Cloud are very much alike in the respect that they mourn for the shell of a man that died not at the hands of Cloud, but back in Nibelheim when lies penetrated him. He was a man who was supposed to be the perfect soldier . . .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter Five

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


___"Cloud," Zack whispered, and it seemed to take all of my strength to open my eyes, just to be frightened by the glowing blue eyes that appeared before me through all of the hazy numbness, but knowing they belonged to Zack made my fear subside. I had known Zack for a while then, and although Zack treated me as if I were a still a child, he cared about me. I considered him the only friend I had ever had that wasn't some sort of an illusion or lie. Knowing that he had gone through the same thing as I had in the Shinra Mansion kept me going. It kept me struggling to just be able to open my eyes. It had taken just as long to realize that Zack had drained the makou from the tank and was now leading me out of it. I nearly stumbled, but Zack gave me a reassuring look and, holding me by the hand, led me to some clothes he had gathered._

  
  


_"Here, put this on," he said, throwing the uniform of a first class soldier to me. "It smells a little, though, so don't complain." Zack was fitted in the same attire, which was nothing new, as I had never seen Zack wearing anything different. I realized I was shaking. The numbness had faded, and the cold and ancient musty air of the mansion had some kind of ominous affect on me. A cold, odd feeling was in the back of my mind, making it harder for me to focus. I had to lean on Zack, not trusting my legs to work. I knew they wouldn't. I was overcome by weakness. I stuggled in vain to dress, and watched dejectedly as Zack waved my hands away and pulled on the shirt I had been trying to put on over my head, and helped me into the pants and boots. I turned my head to find a scientist -- one of professor Hojo's lackeys -- lying in a heap by one of the makou tanks. I looked at Zack, who smirked and shrugged as if to say that that was what the bastard had coming to him, and then abruptly put a more serious look on his face when he realized that I was still shivering, and I began to feel in full, the sickness that had spread throughout me for a long time while being down here. "Are you okay?" he asked, growing more concerned, and when all I could do was shake my head, Zack held me up for support and smiled sadly down at me. "Let's get the fuck away from Shinra, okay?" _

  
  


_We had fled from Nibelheim, Zack cursing and muttering about how it had burned down. I didn't catch what he was saying, my eyes vacant and unblinking as he dragged me from my hometown. After a few hours of being carried by Zack who both looked and sounded exhausted, I realized the sun was setting. I had desperately tried to tell him to rest, but it seemed like he understood without me having to say so. He smiled sadly at me and ruffled my hair._

  
  


_"You look like shit, Cloud," he said after propping me against a rock. He began to pace, his brow furrowed in concern. "I'll get those bastards for what they did to us, Cloud." His voice sounded shaky and as he paced around more, I started to feel very guilty. Zack didn't look well himself, and it probably didn't help him to have to carry me around everywhere. When he looked back at me, his shoulders were shaking and he was crying. It was the first time I saw him do that . . . _

  
  


_"Z-Zack?" I forced myself to say. My throat felt terribly raw, and my head hurt so much that my vision was impared considerably. It was so hard to focus, and every time I started to almost give in to unconciousness, the cold feeling of something foreign began to return, searching through my mind. _

  
  


_"Shh," Zack said, stopping to sit by me. He wiped at his eyes, and managed to stop shaking. It was evident that rage had far overcome him. One solitary tear streaked down his face as Zack shut his eyes and squeezed my hand reassuringly. It fell from his chin and splattered down onto the hand he held, and I remember starting to sob then myself. "Shh," Zack said opening his eyes. "We'll get you a doctor . . . and we'll start a new life . . . far away from Shinra, together. We're friends, right Cloud?" I nodded. "We'll always be friends. I'm not gonna leave you. . ."_

  
  


_In the early morning, we were able to hitch a ride on a truck that was headed for the Costa Del Sol port. The man driving it had stocked up quite a few things from Costa Del Sol on his truck, including a bundle of fish. He had been going back to Nibelheim, but he was offering to drive us once he saw what kind of condition I was in. Zack explained to me that from there they would take a boat to the Kalm port where they would walk the rest of the way to Midgar. _

  
  


_"What date is it old man?" Zack asked after pacing around a bit in the back of the pick-up nervously. Along with the affects of makou poisoning, a queasy feeling was fluttering in my stomach and it made my head reel and swim. I had tried in vain to fall asleep on the truck for the past hour, and had now given up. Instead, I listened to Zack babble and ask the driver questions._

  
  


_"I reckon it's a Tuesday, but no one really keeps track of the year anymore, young man," the driver responded. "Not since the Shinra started to raise the taxes again, anyway. But I can tell you it's been about five years since the war ended." _

  
  


_"Five, huh?" Zack said, his voice getting a bit lower, more dejected. He turned to Cloud. "That means we've been in that damn lab for two yers, Cloud." I opened my eyes, as sick as I was, to peer at Zack. He began to pace again as soon as I did. "Once we get to Midgar, Cloud, what are we going to do? How are we going to make a living?" I couldn't answer that question even if I wanted to. "Hey, old man, what job do you think I could get?" Zack asked abruptly._

  
  


_"Young folks like you should try to do just about everything until you find something you really like and setlle down," the driver answered. Zack paced more._

  
  


_"Hey, I know what we could do, Cloud!" Zack said happily, giving one of his infamous crooked grins. He came to sit next to me on the floor of the pick-up and turned my head so that I was facing him. "We could become mercenaries! Thank about that, Cloud! You an' me. It's about as good as anything else, aye?"_

  
  


_"Are you listenin' to me, young man?" the driver admonished, as if Zack didn't understand his previous words of encouragement. He just sighed._

  
  


_"Yeah! How's that sound, old man? Me and my friend here as mercenaries!" _

  
  


_"Midgar's a dangerous city," the driver said. "The Shinra're there and . . ."_

  
  


_"Heh, it doesn't matter. I'm not afraid of anything. That's what we'll do, okay Cloud? We'll be mercenaries," Zack said, smiling. I wasn't thrilled about the idea, but I couldn't think of anything better than that. I felt terrible that Zack had to take care of me this way. It made me think of my mom, and I blinked back tears. I could still imagine her sobbing as I left for Midgar to fulfil my dream of making it to SOLDIER. My mother hated the Shinra, and she hated the idea of me being amongst the likes of them, but I didn't care. Growing up in Nibelheim had made me cold and isolated, and I hated it there. If I was going to become anything at all, I figured I would join SOLDIER. I was powered by the hope of someday meeting Sephiroth then. I wished I had run from that dream. Then, knowing that Zack had the same protective hold over me that my mom had, I felt somewhat relieved, but for the most part scared that I would lose Zack too._

  
  


_"Not that bright, that fellow," the driver shook his head, muttering. Zack looked in the direction of the driver, giving him a faint snort and began pacing again. Zack remained quiet for the rest of that night, which both surprised and worried me. When he finally settled down and started to fall asleep, I heard him say things about a girl who could make flowers grow in Midgar. I think he had mentioned her before, calling her Aerith. I had heard about the city being an extremely infertile place, and dwelling on that thought while also watching Zack toss and turn in a nightmare made me feel more ill. I was frightened by the idea of being left alone if anything happened to Zack._

  
  


_ I had finally gotten to fall asleep in the late hours of the night, although the odd icy feeling returned in my mind. I fell asleep feeling more hopeless than I had when being trapped in the Shinra Mansion._

  
  
  
  


_"Are you going to be all right for the rest of the way?" the old man that had driven them asked. I focused my eyes to find the man looking at me strangely, as if I were foreign to him._

  
  


_"Yeah, old man. Thanks for driving us all this way," Zack replied, carrying me off the truck after he asked me how I was doing. He told me that I was starting to look better, but I still couldn't even feel my legs. Somehow though, I did feel better. My head didn't hurt quite as much and for now, the foreign voices and probing feeling in my head had stopped. He was smiling, and I had managed to smile back. _

  
  


_At Costa Del Sol, we had a meal and headed for the port, where a boat was just leaving for Kalm. It was the best both of us had eaten in so long. I wondered how different I appeared to Zack both physically and mentally. I knew that I probably looked too thin. Zack was thinner now, too, almost painfully so. But he still managed to look strong. His hair was longer, and his eyes glowed more from the treatments he had undergone, but for the most part, he was still the Zack I had met on the Junon Harbor mission. From that point Zack had let me stay at his living quarters whenever he was on particular missions, most of which were led by Sephiroth. He requested me on a lot of missions, and I guess that's how I started to move up in rank as a grunt, but I had never made SOLDIER because of the mission to Nibelheim, and in some way, I felt glad something stopped me from it. I had never quite got along with anyone. Even at Shinra I was constantly harrassed and made fun of. I guess that's another thing that made Zack so special. He actually cared. _

  
  
  
  


_"We're here, Cloud," Zack said, shaking me gently and bringing me back into conciousness. I looked around. The air seemed more polluted and before the ship was the town of Kalm, standing there humbly before the scene of a large city. We were almost there. I started to almost feel giddy, but I was still very weak, and my head was starting to hurt very badly. Zack helped me off the ship and let me sit by the port for a while. At one point I swore I heard laughter in my mind, which disturbed me greatly. I started to a very bad feeling about going to Midgar. _

  
  


_"Z-Zack?" I asked. He looked at me questioningly, fiddling with the materia that was in his sword."I think . . . I think maybe we should stay in Kalm for a while." I started to tremble. I heard laughter in my head again, and felt an overwhelming desire to tell Zack about these foreign feelings, to let him know that Hojo had ended up winning anyway, even if he had escaped. The cold feeling started to feel warm then, reassuringly encouraging him to feel better. Zack looked worried and told Cloud they would stay in Kalm overnight. Zack had spent the day reassuring me that things would be better once we were at Midgar and stocking up on weapons, armor, and a few other items. I had gotten sleep that night, but it was very empty and I woke up more tense than I had been when I had fallen asleep. Zack tried the best he could to cheer me up, promising me that as soon as I got better we would train together and find work. He said it would be exciting, and I wanted to believe that everything would be fine, so I forced myself to take that at face value. _

  
  


_We had been traveling for a little bit when we reached a cliff that overlooked the city of Midgar. It wasn't long there that we had begun to hear gunshots being fired. I was in a daze, and didn't realize what the sounds were until Zack looked around worriedly and sat me down behind a rock, telling me to wait there so that he could investigate. When he returned, his sword was bloody, and he looked very troubled._

  
  


_"They attacked me," Zack said dazzedly, but it wasn't long before more gunfire was heard. I crawled over to Zack, who admonished me for doing so and in the process, was thrown back by a fire that hit his arm. I fell forward onto the ground, an odd vacant feeling overcoming me, and blinding light filled my eyes along with ringing in my ears that made me retch. I heard, very clearly though, when Zack screamed. I struggled to know what was going on. I saw a few Shinra soldiers being led by an officer. One soldier kicked me._

  
  


_"What will we do with this one, sir?" he asked._

  
  


_"Leave him there. He's as good as dead anyway," the officer said. When they left, I looked ahead of me, seeing Zack stetched out at the edge of the cliff. His eyes were wide, and as I crawled to him, I saw that the makou had almost lost it's glow in his eyes. I stared dumbly at him, failing to see all of the blood that he was surrounded in. His fingers still protectively gripped his sword. He coughed up more blood and rolled his eyes toward mine. They looked so vacant. I continued to stare dumbly as he picked up a hand and ruffled my hair for the last time._

  
  


_"I-I . . . tried . . . C-Cloud. I'm . . . n-not abandoning y-you. I guess . . . Shinra had the last . . .l-laugh," he said and looked up. He blinked a few times and then he lay still, his eyes wide and lifeless, dull. I continued to believe this wasn't happening and looked up at Midgar. It started to rain, and all I thought then was that I was dreaming. Again, I refused to face this, but then it began to sink in when I looked back down at Zack. I closed his eyes and began to tremble, strength returning to me in confused angry adrenaline. I picked up his sword, attempting to end all of the pain that Shinra brought right there, but what hurt the most is that I couldn't do it, and I ended up sobbing, clutching at Zack's body and screaming at him to wake up until I was exhausted from my rage, fear and sadness until I fell asleep . . . _

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Do you want to continue this?" Vincent asked Cloud, noticing that now he was crying. Cloud looked defiantly at Vincent and nodded.

  
  


"I have to. I have to Vincent. I owed saving the Planet and getting rid of Shinra to Zack, myself, and everyone else. And I don't want Zack to feel he was forgotten. I owe it to him to be strong, too." Cloud had stopped pacing now and was now sitting opposite the raven-haired man. Vincent felt terrible seeing Cloud like this. Shinra had done some terrible things, and being part of Shinra, Vincent himself was forced to do terrible things as well, but there were things that were too terrible to bear and for someone like Cloud, who was forced to grow up too quickly and loose innocent ignorance so fast . . . it was too terrible. The people of the world who were put under the influence of Shinra would never get their innocence back, but Vincent sighed then and looked at Cloud.

  
  


"I swear to you that whatever mission you feel you need to accomplish to put Shinra and the memories that it produced away, it will be done. I will help you, Cloud. Now please, if you feel up to it . . . continue your story."


	6. Sephiroth's Lesson

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~__

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_Chapter Six_**

  
  
  
  
  
  


_There had been silence for a while, and then there was another flash of blinding white light, which was followed by the immediate darkness that could be found when I shut my eyes. I could always escape if I closed my eyes from the light. Everything seemed to turn red and my eyes hurt intensely, perhaps to signify that I was awake again. I heard laughter in my head, but this time it was a child's. Something about it struck me as wrong. It was sinister and low, malevolent. When the darkness faded, I could see the image of a tank. Inside, a naked child that looked to be around the age of seven or eight floated. The strange_ _liquid's faint green light was oddly calming as it swept across the babified face. The child, obviously a male despite how feminine he appeared, slowly opened two large jade-colored eyes that were framed by waist-length hair the color of an aging man's. These eyes glowed with a light that penetrated through the green haziness that surrounded him. He sucked in a few careful breaths from a mask of oxygen that covered the lower portion of his face. Several heartbeats passed (which I could hear were my own) and then the child's eyes widened. At first he tried to conserve oxygen, that was apparent. Then, as a minute or two went by, he thrashed about in the hazy liquid until he fell unconscious. It became apparent that the contents of the tank were being drained as he floated there, his hair swirling around his head as if it betrayed his motionless form._

  
  


_More heartbeats thundered in my ears, and I could almost feel the burning in my lungs that came with lack of air. Stars came before my eyes, blackness closing in once more, but it slowly receded and an image of a fetus in a mother's womb came to me. There was an oddly disturbing thing about it, but before I could determine what it was, Jenova's form appeared before me, headless and trapped within a confinement, labeled as a specimen._

  
  


_I remember that's what brought me reeling from my conscious-like sleep. I shot up into a sitting position, drenched in sweat and gasping for air as if I had drowned in the images that came before me while refusing to awaken fully. Thinking about it now, those images are the clearest ones that came to me since having Jenova in my system. I still don't know why I got these images. Perhaps Sephiroth wanted me to remember parts about myself at the time, while still knowing who he was and why he was connected to Jenova. But I could feel Jenova's presence in my mind. Maybe they both tried to keep me aware? I did not fully know._

  
  


_"Hey," a woman's voices started, quiet and calm, "Settle down now. You have a fever." I couldn't see her, because my eyes were hurting pretty badly. I could, however feel the heat that burned at my forehead, and although I was very cold, I was sweating. One thing came to my mind and as soon as it did, it left my lips._

  
  


_"M-mom?" Instantly, images and some memories of her came to me, but they were short-lived to be thought upon. The woman, whoever she was, laughed softly and when my vision returned to me shortly, she pushed me gently into the bed, as if encouraging that I rest._

  
  


_"No. Lilith," she said, a smile of amusement playing on her lips. I remember being horrified, staring into her eyes. They were just like his, but slightly darker, and there was something about them that I couldn't put my finger on. I knew the light that framed them was Makou, but there was something hidden there that I couldn't determine. Framing her face were the tendrils of silver hair that he had, yet it was cropped short, slightly hanging down from her face in soft wisps. She brushed a few strands of her hair back behind an ear and stood to her full height, looking back toward the end of the room. Two guards stood, slouching against each side of the door frame. One was polishing a shotgun while the other was staring intently out the window. I followed his gaze, but only found that outside, piles of garbage resided and nothing more. "Aiden," she said, raising her voice to a slightly more commanding tone. A medium height man in the uniform of a first class SOLDIER came into the room, stepping through the doorway calmly and regarding Lilith with a smirk._

  
  


_"Something the matter, Lilith dear?" the man asked, eyeing my crumpled form on the bed. His long red hair, which was tied back into a ponytail, was shocking against the blue that was his uniform. His green Makou eyes twinkled. He was clearly amused. Lilith gave him a hard look and gestured back to me with the nod of her head. _

  
  


_"He's like you. A SOLDIER first class, Aiden," Lilith said, smiling slightly this time, but then looking back at me with a serious expression. "He seems to have Makou Poisoning, as well. He's been staring upward for quite a while." I remember not understanding those words and looking questioningly at the woman who introduced herself as Lilith. She seemed sympathetic. The SOLDIER first class man strode over, standing a few feet away from the foot of the bed and examining my eyes closely._

  
  


_". . . Makou Poisoning?" he asked, furrowing his brows and standing upright, only to cross his arms and study me a bit more. "Did you bathe in the stuff, kid?!" I tried to focus on how I had gotten sick, closing my eyes and searching for something to say, but the familiar blinding white light and ringing in my ears followed suit, accompanied by two glowing green Makou eyes and the sound of laughter. I heard whispering, but it was unintelligible. Whatever was going on, it was hurting my head pretty damn much and I began to thrash. A pair of hands held me down that were icy to the touch._

  
  


_"Damn it! They always do this! Do you have a Tranquilizer, Aiden?" Lilith asked, her voice coming from above me. It was amazing to me how every time this sort of thing happened, I had clarity of everything that happened around me. It was as if I were witnessing the pain that happened to my body, instead of feeling it. I felt incredibly detached from myself, but as soon as I felt, or rather sensed the prick of a needle, my body tensed, and I became somewhat whole again, the detached feeling I had been experiencing melting into the lethargy that soon took over._

  
  


_I was asleep again, very much aware of it, I must add. My eyes became too heavy when the needle's fluid spilled into my veins, and then it seemed that I was floating. I was floating away from everything. And then _he _was there. He was pacing back and forth before my bed. The room was empty. His smile was eery, and my blood ran cold when my eyes met with his reptilian orbs. I almost expected that beneath his gloves, his hands were scale and bone. He seemed a man who drew energy from the cold and dreary. He enjoyed it when the blood drained from my face. Could I not even move in my dreams?_

  
  


_And then he came close. Too close. His face was above mine and he brought a finger to his lips. _shhh,_ he whispered to me. His lips moved once more, making them to seem beautiful and chiseled from perfect white marble. I could not grasp his words. It seemed that my ears no longer wished to work. I had never learned to read lips, but I knew the sight of the word "listen" on them. What did I want to hear from this daemon of Death? There was nothing I wanted more than to scream, but I felt paralyzed. Again, the word: "Listen" caught me. Again, the blinding white light and the searing pain that made me feel as if my head were exploding. _

  
  


_I awoke, upon a hard cold surface, and it seemed that I had never closed my eyes at all. Staring around me in the dark, I saw with heat-sensitive makou eyes in shades of grey. My head was throbbing. I realized that this was an office, just big enough to fit in a desk, chair, and a noticeable squeezing in of a few file cabinets, which was the record of the goings-on in Midgar. I knew there were files in those cabinet drawers of every citizen that had been terminated, and said to be turned away. How I knew what was in those files, I did not know. To my recollection, I had never been in such a place, and I had never known of terminating citizens and covering it up. I stood, rather quickly, giving myself a dizzy spell in the process. All but tearing through the files, I found a cover page on a notice. I'm glad I had read through it, because now I know that this is what had happened to Zack. He was killed, and filed in these drawers. His parents probably still thought him alive. The company probably came to them, telling them that he had been disgraced, stripped of his title, and thrown back into the rest of the world, far away from Midgar. Either way, he might as well have been dead, and that very much strikes my heart. The very coming of the thought into my head makes me feel cruel. But my mind is swimming. It feels almost too heavy to carry_

_ . . . that's why I'm telling you all of this, Vincent. _

_I tried the door, but it was of course locked. I heard voices in the far distance, and footsteps coming in the direction of the cramped office. I nearly panicked, thinking that if I was not supposed to be here, it could very well mean chastisement, and since this seemed to be a Shinra building, it was very likely that it involved makou testing. There was nothing else in the world that I feared more than this procedure. My body knew makou very intimately. My mind knew it just as well. Ever since being in Hojo's personal experiment, I had been a mess. I was literally falling over myself, as I am now. I was terrified now, thinking that Hojo was going to take me back into his experiments.I did the only thing that I could come up with, and that was to hide behind the desk. It was just in time, too, because a man had just entered the room when I scrambled beneath the desk. I scarcely had time to look at myself, but I knew something was definitely not right. I felt like I was in the wrong body, and that may have very well been true. _

_The man kneeled down beside the desk, peering at me leisurely, calmly. That was you, Vincent. I had not known it at the time. You were a Turk then, a brooding man who always hid his arm, just like you are now. And when you kneeled before me as this man of the past, whom I did not know. The most extraordinary thing happened then. My head snapped forward to look at you, and I felt my self giving you a penetrating stare._

  
  
  
  


_"This is a call to Hojo." My lips moved as if on their own accord. There was a hard edge to it, but at the same time, it lacked clear emotion. It was indifferent. My hands moved to my face, and I found myself unfamiliar and numb, and worst of all, the long soft hair that went down my back and slipped in front of my face was silver. My eyes widened, the act coinciding with your nod, and a great look of pity came across your face. A part of me hated that, and a part of me didn't even care. My lips twisted into a snarl, and I stood . . . too calmly, too unnaturally and I shoved passed you, walking down the corridor as if my world were full of glory, but I could hear something else inside of this body screaming so vehemently that I was almost inclined to weep.___

  
  
  
  
  
  


_***_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_The world spun before me, in brilliant blues, reds, and purples, so deep and timidly swirling that I felt that I was spinning from myself. I felt that I didn't care, and that I was peripheral and metaphorical; unreal. I laughed, waved my fingers before my eyes, and shrugged off the world. I didn't mind the pain, because I had always known it. It didn't matter anymore. I was strong as long as I didn't give in to broken bones and black and blue ribs. I laughed it off as I stared into my peripheral dream, pressing my palms flat against my eyes, and imagined that I was looking into the velvet nighte. It didn't matter that I was fucked up, that my life was fucked up. _

_No one looked at me with concern except the scared shitless cronies in the laboratory that didn't say a word because I was different, because Hojo was different. When I look at Hojo, I see a man who is through with abusing himself with his petty cheap thrills, and has moved on to scientific sadomasochism. I see a man hiding behind Gast, selling himself as intelligent, but only coming off as a tired olde creep. But I don't have the right to care. I belong to ShinRa. That's why I'd just rather sit here, pretending to see the stars of the universe, perhaps a supernova, and gather up just how pissed I am, just to see if I'll run the world some day, scaring the shit out of ShinRa as their own "creation" gone bad. And I don't think about how cliche it sounds, because I'm different. I will be known as the man who ripped out President ShinRa's throat . . . and fed it to prissy boy Rufus's dog._

  
  
  
  


_"I figured that you would be in here." Vincent's pronounced, monotonous voice. I took my hands away from my eyes, blinked a little to shake off the image of static-like stars, and sat up. I made sure that the man knew that I wasn't feeling like a friendly chat with a Turk. _

  
  
  
  


_"The dead seem to make excellent conversationalists, Vincent. And do you know why that is?" _

  
  
  
  


_"No," Vincent said slowly, seeming to be a little confused, and a little uncomfortable under the harsh white light of the stale room which smelled of potent formaldehyde. _

  
  
  
  


_"Because," I hissed, and grinned slowly, "They don't bore you with trivial matters." I gave him one last glare before I lay back down, humming something I heard coming from Hojo's radio earlier, when Vincent had been watching with disgust on his face, the Makou Chamber procedure. I don't know why he cares, but it's pretty apparent he won't tell me why. He's grown an unmistakable hatred for Hojo. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He's either looking to get into trouble with the government for statutory rape of one of their specimens, or thinking I'm just as fucked up as he is, and friendship's worth a chance. I wasn't looking for either _pleasant_ atrocity. _

  
  
  
  


_"I see," Vincent said. He didn't leave, like others would have. Either he didn't get the clues I was leaving him, or he chose to remain there, fully knowing that it would vex me to have another's company. Someone whom I didn't care for. And in my world, that was everyone but Gast. Perhaps Vincent wanted to emulate him. But he would never have the same humanity that Gast did."Will you be ready for the testing later?"_

  
  
  
  


_"Hmph, you _don't_ have to ask me whether I'm _ready_ or not, Vincent. Do you think Hojo _cares_ whether I'm ready or not?" And I sat up again, stood. Vincent was like a toy soldier, standing there with both arms behind his back, straight as a nail, and expressionless. _

  
  
  
  


_"Yes, I know Hojo doesn't, but Gast does, childe."_

  
  
  
  


_"_What did I tell you about that?!_ I am _not_ a childe, goddamn it!" And I rushed past Vincent, cursing to myself as I ran down the empty corridor, even though I knew I was a childe. I just didn't deserve to be called such. Not with the torture I went through. And then I saw a girl at the end of the hall, in bland white clothing, as bland as my black clothing. She had Makou green eyes, and silvered hair that was cut into a bob, and she was holding a doll that had its eyes and mouth sewn shut._

  
  
  
  


_"Shh," she said, wearily, her sickly voice echoing in the hall. "You'll wake the beast." And she started to tremble. There were bruises all along her arms, and one was wrapped tightly into a cast, while her forehead was wrapped in bandages. "The beast that makes us strong, makes us weak," she rasped, and passed out, her doll hitting the floor and shattering into millions of pieces. _

_I looked down at the girl, still in wonderment, and then I closed my eyes, feeling a vision thrill through my body. I saw a woman with long chestnut colored hair and bright blue eyes trying to drown a baby that held a porcelain doll in its arms. _

  
  



	7. Lilith Valentine

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  
  
  


___Chapter Seven___

  
  
  
  


___"So, how's your new life treating you, Cloud?" Sephiroth asked nonchalantly, nestled, standing between the womb of Shinra Mansion's library's shelves, like some obscene marble infant. He stared at me as if he were looking right through me, and he started to chuckle, his eyes closing delicately as he tipped his head back to let the laugh ripple through him, and then once again he stared, transfixed, now at the ceiling. "It's so ironic we should meet here, Cloud. Do you remember the first time you were here? How I scared you?" And then he leaned forward, a smile like a shark's across his face. "Do you think it's an improvement from being a scared little boy to being a scared little boy trying to act tough? I smell the fear on you both ways, you know."_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_***_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Lilith looked up from the cavernous nothing that surrounded her that was her surroundings, her home, and wished that these memories that were not her own would cease to play in her mind's eye. Here she had a dying Garden of Eden, the snake that ruined god's gift dead and gone, rotting like its slow starvation. And where was Adam? Adam had long since fled this plane, apple in hand, under the watchful eyes of his angry god who left her rotting here with the snake.

  
  
  
  


_"And god said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth."_

  
  
  
  
  
  


And a smile came over Lilith's face, satisfaction that god didn't exist to her, not in this cavernous nothing, disfigured and wounded. There was beautiful death all around her: Beautiful white expanses of virgin snow, for there was no living thing in the Northern Crater save she that would tread this poisonous beautiful earth. And she saw, as she closed her eyes, the healing touch of Holy, that seared her flesh and burned her eyes; yet she was alive , horribly so, and so she would celebrate her misfortune. Her punishment was not begetting infant upon infant, nor a longevity. Her punishment was the company of her visions, her utter aloneness.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Requiem," her lips grinned, and she felt the memories of others at her fingertips. She saw children in mother's arms, she saw mothers discard the life in their wombs, and she saw Lucrecia.

  
  
  
  


"Mother," she smiled. "Oh, how Eve suffers," and a man walked down a long corridor in her mind's eye, silken black hair, dark blue eyes that flickered burgundy, drying blood. The Adam that should have been. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Cloud, do you know what love is? Do you see it when you look at the flower girl? Oh no," Sephiroth asked, "Of course you don't. How silly of me." Everything in the abandoned City of the Ancients was muted, tranquil, yet hearts felt sorrow in the center of it, in the womb. Sephiroth was always in the womb, Jenova's sickly song driving him forward, wrapping him in bliss._

  
  
  
  


_"A church full of flowers, a heart full of love and so-called god. Mother is of a higher power and therefore I am too! I am god, and I crush all things beautiful simply because I can. Will it hurt you when Aerith starts her death throes? Will she blame you in death? It's your fault, you know. Why are you just standing there, Cloud? Maybe you want to become part of the creation of my godhood, but I won't let you. Mother doesn't accept you, Cloud. You are too ignorant, too beautiful. Who ever said there was ignorance in bliss! I see you writhe in pain just to know what I know! Do you wish you could get into my head? Do you want to know how I think?"_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_. . . . . .What difference does it make, Cloud?_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_I am your mind._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Ignorance is savagery._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Mother is god._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_I will be god._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_And Lilith shut her eyes and dreamed of Gast. Gast who was her savior. Gast who was the father Sephiroth never had._

  
  
  
  
  
  


___Hojo's eyes hovered above his head, dead and careless. He injected another needle into his specimen's arm, which was bruised from the amount of times he had felt it in his veins, and the restraints held him back from moving, even when he convulsed from the involuntary reaction to the strange thing entering his body and mind, and he felt choked against the world, only having those eyes to look at, until Gast stormed into the laboratory of the Shinra building._

  
  
  
  


_"The Jenova Project is over, Hojo!" Gast yelled as he came through the steel doors of the musky, harshly-lighted room. "I've got an official letter from the president that you at once discontinue the experimentation of Jenova cells on Sephiroth and Lilith!" The anger on the man's face made Sephiroth calm, but he dared not to say a word, only smiled up at the ceiling, giving Hojo's eyes his most hostile stare._

  
  
  
  


_"Have you spoken to Lucrecia lately, Gast?" Hojo asked nonchalantly, his smile flowering. "She parted with Sephiroth and left him in my care, fully aware that this was happening to him. You can ask Vincent," he concluded this very nastily. Hojo despised the Turk._

  
  
  
  


_"The Jenova Project will cease to take place, Hojo. This is too risky. You're putting both Sephiroth and Lilith in danger."_

  
  


_"I personally find it sickening that you've established a relationship with the specimens. Humanity, I've said, Gast, would be your downfal," Hojo chuckled, dropping a set of keys and the needle he'd used on Sephiroth into his lab coat's pocket. "Lilith, you will find, is quite asleep in my office. Heavily guarded, I assure you."_

  
  
  
  


_"Read this file,"Gast commanded, dropping it into Hojo's hands. "And find your humanity. Now, release Sephiroth from this contraption, and let me take him to meet this monster, to see what he has become a part of."_

  
  
  
  


_"The childe knows what it has become a part of. Its mother, Jenova, who draws from manna. Now Gast, do not be foolish . . ."_

  
  
  
  


_"I'm leaving Shinra, Hojo. Where Jenova cannot plague my dreams, and I will take Sephiroth and Lilith if I must," Gast proclaimed._

  
  
  
  


_"They belong to Shinra, Gast. Lucrecia gave them to Shinra, and without Jenova's cells, Sephiroth and Lilith will_ die_.They cannot leave with you, but if you wish to go, then so be it, but don't you dare come back."_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"I don't intend to," Gast said harshly, holding out his han. Hojo reluctantly gave him the keys to the Jenova chamber, and undid the straps retraining Sephiroth. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_***_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Sephiroth, you must understand why I'm leaving," Gast said as he closed the doors. Two Shinra guards stood attentive, those who would drive the truck to Mt. Nibel, where Jenova's chamber lay, hidden in the heart of a Shinra reactor. Sephiroth looked at them with disgust, then turned away, not even looking at professor Gast._

  
  
  
  


_"I understand quite well, I'm sure you know," Sephiroth snorted._

  
  
  
  


_"No, Sephiroth, you don't," Gast shook his head sadly. "You don't know anything about this at all."_

  
  
  
  


_"What are you taking me to see?" Sephiroth asked, looking back at the man, surprise on his face. Gast smiled, bittersweet._

  
  


_"Your mother, so to speak."_


	8. The Shinra Inn

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  
  
  


___Chapter Eight___

__

  
  
  
  


__Vincent awoke early, watching the light of the sun trickle through the small room in broken shards from the small gaps of space in the window boards. All else was completely dark and silent, slumbering as if in hibernation. He would check on Cloud later, but now he sat, catching himself remembering Lucrecia's face and hands, her lips smiling at him, rouged ruby red. He sighed and checked what time it was, and was displeased when he found that it was merely 3:30 in the morning. Cloud would remain asleep until six if his sleep was more or less uneventful. __

__Every time he tried to pass the time by closing his eyes, he heard laughter in his ears, almost real, and understood that Lucrecia's love would always haunt him. When he was still a Turk, working for Shinra, he had dreams that Lucrecia would be taken from him, dreams that came night after night that were all the same, yet slightly more detailed every night. It started with Sephiroth, who lay upon a morgue slab as it was his very bed, comfortable and ethereal, smiling unnaturally, the light of the moon shining through a ceiling window which doesn't exist, and then he saw Sephiroth dancing with the dead, Lucrecia at the center. She was wearing a long black gown and her face was a ghostly pale white. She was like a princess of the night. Once Seohiroth saw Vincent, however, he'd fly through the ceiling, words muted falling from his lips like clumsy grace, and his face resembled Hojo's, youthful, unwrinkled, pale, and evil. And he flew back with his sword now gripped in his hand.Masamune, it was called. It torethrough Lucrecia's body, which fell forward, wide-eyed, vacant, but now instead of Lucrecia's face, he saw Aerith's, blood spilling around her, sounding like a waterfall of exotic water.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Vincent awoke later in the morning to see Cloud stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth, munching loudly and pouring orange juice in front of his face into a tall glass that didn't look as if it was washed hard enough. __

  
  
  
  


__"Good morning, Vincent," Cloud greeted, still having a mouth full of food. "You know, there's an extra bed in this place. You should try that out, 'cause I bet your back is killing you, sleeping in closets and stuff."

  
  
  
  


"I guess I miss my coffin," Vincent replied, a little dazed. He looked at Cloud, and realized he was wearing his Shinra uniform and armor, his bustersword newly polished in the corner of the little kitchen. "And where are you going?"__

  
  
  
  


__"I had another dream last night that tried to tell me something," Cloud responded, "So I decided that I should _do _something about it rather then just stay here and feel sorry for myself.

  
  
  
  


"See any Makou eyes in that dream?" Vincent asked cautiously.

  
  
  
  


"Yeah. It was really strange, though. I remembered something Sephiroth told me once . . .and then . . . I saw a woman with Makou green eyes and silver hair. She looked a lot like Sephiroth."

  
  
  
  


"Like Sephiroth?" Vincent said as he looked down at the toast being laid out before him. He shook his head. "I'm not hungry, Cloud." The boy made a face at this, but didn't persist. "You must be talking about Lilith," Vincent said as Cloud proceeded to scarf down the toast on the plate that was offered to him. Drinking half the semi-clean glass of orange juice, Cloud blinked vacantly at Vincent and then some familiar look was across his face. It was a look that told Vincent that Cloud was trying to remember her. 

  
  
  
  


"I had a dream that she found me, and taught me how to survive after Zack's death," Cloud said. Vincent remembered this from when Cloud had tolfd him of his link to Sephiroth's mind, and how he was able to transmit images and memories. Sephiroth had been trying to explain mnemonically, and in riddles. It was more fun to him that way. Everyone around him was part of his game, and it took respect to make Sephiroth stop those games. No, he didn't respect Cloud, nor did he regard him as his equal. He did, however, find Cloud amusing. He understood the boy so well, but only gave him who he was in riddles and games like everyone else, and Cloud didn't know how to decipher them. 

Lilith was different.

Lilith's Lucrecia's second childe . . . his childe, the childe he was condemned for. Lilith was Sephiroth's half-sister, who was snatched up by Hojo and experimented on not long after birth. Vincent would never forget the look on Lucrecia's heart-broken face. She had prayed for miscarriage, knowing that the pregnancy would enrage Hojo, and cast his wrath upon Vincent. Lucrecia ran away after that, never heard of again, and Vincent slept for twenty-three years of unbroken nightmares, unaware of the changes in the world, and unaware of how forgotten he was, lying in a coffin in Shinra Mansion, surrounded by the dead. 

When he had awoken from such long slumber, Vincent was surprised to hear that Sephiroth was still alive, but did not know if Lilith had survived the experimentation that Hojo performed on her, and he could never bring himself to admitting to the tortured childe that he was her father, and not Hojo. This was another sin of his, although he supposed that it would have been stupid to tell Lilith so. Hojo certainly kept secrets from both children. It startled Vincent to have seen Sephiroth grown-up, when the last time in his nightmares he had been in his childhood years. 

He saw, very distinctly, the delicate features of his mother in him, and knew that his strength was not unlike hers. He still remembered Sephiroth's murder of Aerith Gainsbrough, "the flower girl," he had called her.

"Martyr," he smiled, as he plunged his Masamune to the hilt through the girl's torso, and no one had been able to stop him. Cloud stood, arms at his sides, expression blank, until Sephiroth left, leaving a part of Jenova behind to manifest as a weaker part of her whole, and there had been grief in his eyes as he laid Aerith into the pond of clear water. Vincent knew that Cloud did not love Aerith, but he, like himself, cared deeply for those he got himself involved with, even if he didn't show it at times.

  
  
  
  


"Vincent," Cloud shook the man gently, and was startled when Vincent's deep red eyes shot open.

  
  
  
  


"I was remembering Lilith . . . and Sephiroth," he said, and then added, "I'm sorry."

  
  
  
  


"I thought Sephiroth was an orphaned only childe," Cloud muttered. Vincent laughed.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"He thought he was too. It's a funny thing about Sephiroth and Lilith . . .they only met once . . .and every time Hojo mentioned either Lucrecia or Lilith, he would be brainwashed, so to speak, by Hojo. He, of course, didn't want them to know about each other, or their mother, and even me. He despised me for loving Lucrecia, and he despised even more that Lucrecia loved me back.


	9. A Leave of Absence and A Disappointed Bo...

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Chapter Nine_

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Hojo, where is professor Gast?" Sephiroth asked the man one morning when Vincent was missing, and Gast was nowhere in sight for two days. Hojo was arranging materials in the lab on a table, and had his back to the boy, but Sephiroth knew that he must have started smiling after the question was asked. "Vincent seems to have disappeared as well, and I know this is not a coincidence.

  
  
  
  


"_Professor_ Gast has gone up to the Northern quadrant to study the Cetra," Hojo said, emphasizing the word professor, as if Gast didn't deserve the title for leaving Shinra. But then, to Hojo, no one deserved anything, if it was not himself. "The Cetra,"Hojo snorted, "are not to be trusted. Not with their false conceptions of reality."

  
  
  
  


"He would leave without telling me?"

  
  
  
  


"Yes, Sephiroth. He's abandoned the Jenova Project . . . you, for a woman," Hojo snickered. "That's really what it's all about, you know."

  
  
  
  


"And . . . what of Vincent?"

  
  
  
  


"You know how it is in the Turks' business. Everything's risk, risk, risk. Don't worry though. He's been replaced." Hojo began mixing labeled solutions that popped and fizzed when they came in contact with each other. Sephiroth watched some of it hit the glass table, then sizzle into gas, and turned to leave.

  
  
  
  


"Oh yes," said Hojo, without turning around, "I forgot to tell you . . . The president wants to speak to you. It's a little experiment of his own." It was then that he turned around to eye Sephiroth's painfully thin, yet strong frame.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**********

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Three knocks came at President Shinra's door, and then silence. The man looked up from his desk through the top of his reading spectacles, and then, as if by a reflex, pulled them off his face and let them hang upon a gold chain, a comfortable weight against his fat belly. He got up to turn the Shinra camera on that had a view of the hall outside of his office. Peering at the screen, he saw an unusually tall young boy with hair and eyes the result of experimentation; makou literally encompassing his soul. Opening the door, the president smiled at Sephiroth and stepped out of his way. _

  
  
  
  


_"Come in, I have a request I must ask from you. However, this is, of course, a mandatory request."_

  
  
  
  


_"And what is that, President Shinra?" Sephiroth asked as respectfully as he could, without letting his hatred of the blimpy man seep into his response. Shinra, having the doleful expression of a trillionaire murderer on his face, clapped his stubby pink-hued hands together and two men came in, dressed like -and therefore were- Turks. They came toward Sephiroth, carrying a long sword in their four combined arms, wrapped in leather sheets and tied with golden strings. And there was Shinra's logo dangling at the bottom in red; a most appropriate color. _

  
  
  
  


_"No man has been able to carry, nor wield this sword on his own," the president of death explained. "It is to my understanding that the Jenova Project has given you strength beyond any man -although it does not appear so- and therefore I offer this sword to you as a test of will and endurance. If, by the end of three months, you cannot lift this sword, you will have no place in Shinra. If, however, you can lift the sword, I will take you out of Hojo's laboratory and install you in the military. SOLDIER, it is termed. You will be supplied with whatever you need to live on and so forth. You will be taken care of at my expense." Both of the Turks came up to Sephiroth, cradling the sword, restrained. _

_The first was a rather tall man, with long black hair like an inverted spider's web threads strung in lines. He had dull, passionless eyes, and in between them, there was a dot. It was olive-colored, and Sephiroth did not understand what its purpose was. The other man was lean, well-muscled, not feminine in the features like the first Turk. His head was shaved bald, sunglasses smugly on his face. Sunglasses were the crucifix of Christian faith to the Turks. They represented death, life, pathos, complete lack of feeling. Anything that would hide their eyes. Devil's eyes. Pretense. The first Turk did not wear sunglasses, and so Sephiroth saw outright sin; the disinterest of a man who was all things society named scum. However, society did not call the Turks scum. Society respects Shinra, so society respects the Turks. Society in its extreme low accepts all form of authority, especially if society is corrupt; unintelligent; ignorant. _

_Then, the blade was presented to Sephiroth, just short of his outstretched arms, which he felt weight settle into. At first, the sword seemed to readily accept him, and then the thing came crashing to the floor in the front of its long length._

  
  
  
  


_"Tsk, tsk." The president shook his head of sparse straw-colored hair. His chins rolled upon each other as he nodded to the sword, as if tectonic plates. "You have to channel the energy within you. Stamina is only _part_ of it. Sephiroth's eyes seethed their forewarned neon wrath. Was the president mocking him? He, who Sephiroth supposed had never killed directly, never held a sword. _

  
  
  
  


_"In that case, I'll have it done by _tomorrow_," Sephiroth said, holding back a hiss. The two Turks looked at him strangely, because, asfterall, they'd needed both theit combined energies to carry the impossibly long and heavy swor, and he had just now gathered it in to both arms. Then he went to the door, holding the sword as if it were a great honor, but was skeptical of all gifts Shinra presented to him. Still the Turks were agape. "May I be excused now?"_

  
  
  
  


_"Take the fighting court," the president said, chuckling. "You are a special asset to Shinra after all."_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_**********_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_As soon as Sephiroth got to the fighting court, he chose a corner to hide away in, so that he would be undisturbed. The first three times he picked the sword up by the hilt, it stayed elevated for a few seconds, an extension of his will, but then the muscles in his arms tired, and the blade's front came down to the ground. The length was at least two feet over his own height, but it was magnificently beautiful after he had unsheathed it. Patiently, Sephiroth took the blade by the hilt again, this time holding it two-handed. Something, however, changed. As he concentrated pn letting it stay an extension of his will, the weight seemed to decrease. It was as if the sword had allowed him to wield it. He opened his eyes, and dropped his left hand, which he had used to evenly distribute the weight of the heavy sword. It almost seemed weightless now. He smiled, something he hadn't done with heart since Professor Gast disappeared. He immediately went to prove himself to President Shinra. This was only the beginning of what he wanted to aspire to._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Lilith shook her head at the memory that wasn't her own. She missed the intoxicating link to Jenova. It made her mind the sharp point of a reality that no one wanted her to stumble upon. Jenova was possession, the Mother. Sephiroth was addiction, the Father. The insanity of Sephiroth's feverish mind was something that passed the days on the North Crater, until the clones, black-robed and makou-eyed, mindless drones of Jenova and Sephiroth's bidding (and she knew that Sephiroth was Jernova's puppet, as she was theirs). The clones all spat nonsense that sounded like prayer. There was tremendous adoration for Sephiroth, the Father, and Jenova, the Mother. Cult adoration. Sephiroth was more drugged by Jenova then any of the clones. Their adoration was for naught. Slaughter upon slaughter came from the Heavens. That was Jenova's goal. The most unconsciously suicidal was he, who felt himself growing more hopeless, and it was Cloud who finally let him rest. _

_She felt the final link break then, and saw his eyes open, aware, for the last time before he disappeared, becoming the billions of sparks of spirit that receded into Lifestream. As she closed her eyes, she saw him smiling at her, walking through the snowy fields of his Promised Land, untainted by alien addiction. It was a silent sanctuary, where death was contemplation: the Promised Land that Shinra had been searching, and would never find. There was never worldly paradise. _

_Lilith was starting to get sick of the North Crater._

_There was no place for Lilith in Midgar, nor was there a place for her anywhere else. The world was the graveyard of the living, devastated by destruction, yet still living, and slowly re-healing at its own slow pace. There were bodies strewn all about Midgar, hidden, waiting, a mass of unidentified death. Death that was however, not in vain. The city's vegetation was growing wildly. Flowers, dandelions, everything. Previously, _nothing_ could grow in Midgar. Once Lifestream destroyed Meteor, however, nothing would be the same. Almost all traces of Shinra had been eradicated, all destroyed by the literal Holy spell. Holy got rid of all traces of Shinra : makou, Jenova . . .but Lifestream, when it appeared, was able to correct the path that Holy has ridden upon. It was as if by some miracle that Lilith was not dead. All around her, the clones had screamed in agony, renouncing their cult adoration and took up confusion and death, their eyes being burned from their sockets, their bodies reduced to bloody pulps of smoldering flesh that smelled putrid, and liberating. The smell of death in Lilith's nostrils brought her life. She was still alive, spared like Noah in his Arc, only she didn't give a damn about the word of god. So, why _was_ she spared by Holy? She had as much Jenova and makou in her blood as Sephiroth did,maybe even more, considering it was much later that she was able to escape Hojo than it was for him. Always, she was the experiment he never worked in earnest on. She was forgotten Eve; Lilith. _

_She decided she'd leave the North Crater and try to forget Sephiroth, and everything that had to do with him. She didn't know where to go to again, and she was back to where her first train of thought was. She didn't know what she was even looking for. Peace? No, she wasn't bound to Jenova anymore, and wasn't part of some greater whole of evil. Something, however, made her sad that she was leaving the blooming wound to the planet. When she left, she knew that it would thrive, and so, she left. _

  
  
  
  



	10. Trust is the Name of the Game

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary, recap: For the course of the better half of FFVII, Cloud is out to kill his childhood idol, whom he hates for betraying him, and the world. But when he has finally killed Sephiroth, Cloud is left with emptiness and guilt, for he finds that his hate was misled. He pities the tragic life that Sephiroth has led, a path of lies and shame, death the only escape into true happiness. Cloud meanwhile has to deal with how much he has become the product of the lies that have shaped his sojourn on the road to save the planet. Vincent finds a kindred spirit in Cloud, and attempts to help him as best as he can, while still dealing with his problems of romantic loss. In this chapter, Cloud tries to help Vincent in return, and at first, the results are disastrous. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Chapter Ten_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Cloud stepped outside for the first time in a long while. He had expected devastation, and he was given it. There were no children outside. Anyone whom Cloud could see was in poverty. He looked back at the formerly Shinra owned house which Vincent bought for three hundred thousand gil on their mercenary money. It was worth it, he had to think, now that there was no place for anyone to go. The people outside had hopelessness written on their faces. It made him feel like killing Sephiroth was a waste, and he had to force himself not to picture the terrible look of surprise and remorse on the dying man's face as he became one with the Lifestream. 

This was the only establishment owned by Shinra that was a pleasure house that survived. There were two major inns in Costa del Sol that were not private, and only the rich were being admitted. Pangs of guiltiness overtook Cloud as he soaked in the impact of his decisions. He then stepped back into the safety of the Shinra house, where the devastation of the world could be denied for a little longer, but the devastation of his heart could not get over. 

  
  
  
  


"I'm responsible for this," Cloud said softly as he shut the door gently, slowly. He cast a long shadow upon the floor as the rising sun crept from the bottom of the world to settle above, its rays illuminating the windows. Vincent looked up from a book he had taken off a shelf; he hadn't been immersed in the story anyway. It was a romance, and it had a happy ending, most likely. His head lifted slowly, and he turned to look at Cloud, a frown tugging the sides of his thin lips down. He then turned to look outside of the window closest to him.

  
  
  
  


"All of the Shinra dogs are DEAD!" wailed a loud voice from outside. Cheers came after it, making Cloud wince like a childe hiding from a bad dream. He was still in Shinra uniform. 

  
  
  
  


"Don't be so hard on yourself, Cloud," Vincent said. His voice was so low that Cloud could hardly hear him. 

  
  
  
  


"But Vincent, I sacrificed lives. If only I had been more--"

  
  
  
  


"Nonsense. Be strong. A leader must be strong, and must make sacrifices."

  
  
  
  


"But I'm _not_ a leader, Vincent!"

  
  
  
  


"There were casualties, but that is better than the world being obliterated. You did the best you could, that's enough."

  
  
  
  


"Listen to yourself," Cloud scowled. "You can't even let go of Lucrecia, and that what _Hojo _did is _not_ your fault.I don't think you should be talking about that 'the best you could do under the circumstance' stuff, Vincent." Cloud's eyes closed tight, and then he slammed his fist against the wall. He had not meant to be so vehement, but his blood was boiling. Vincent remained silent, watching Cloud walk to the corner of the kitchen for his Buster sword. As he walked to Vincent's side, he strapped the clunky weapon to his back, sheathing it. Vincent stood, his features more drawn, saddened. He pulled his cloak over him, grabbing a few plates that hadn't been put away, and shoved them into the sink with his clawed arm. They made a metallic scrape as they hit the bottom of the porcelain. Vincent sat back down with a fluid, agitated motion. 

  
  
  
  


"We will_ not_ discuss that," he said. Cloud grimaced now, only being able to stand there.

  
  
  
  


"Why not? I've been telling you about the things that make my mind scream. Why should you be denied letting your grievances out? If I were to yell Lucrecia's name at you, I just know you'd go nuts!"

  
  
  
  


"Cease this. Now."Vincent's voice had changed in tone, being more gruff than Cloud normally heard him sounding. There was emotion in it, and no ambivalence. 

  
  
  
  


"No, Vincent," Cloud shook his head, grasping Vincent's flesh arm. "Tell me about Lucrecia, Sephiroth, and Lilith. Tell me about them!"

  
  
  
  


"This is unacceptable, Cloud! I will not tolerate it!" He shouted, pulling his arm back from Cloud. His shoulders were shaking, and his clawed hand tore at the wood of the chair's armrest. Cloud for a second thought of the Chaos Theory, as if Vincent had become a measure of beast again, but there was no such thing to apex Vincent's anger now. There was only raw emotion, and the illusion of a man that has become something too inhuman to approach, or understand. Cloud stumbled back, reliving the beast in Vincent tearing away from his mind and body upon Highwind. That part of him had died with Meteor. Cloud's eyes were shadowed now. 

  
  
  
  


"I know you loved Sephiroth as if he was your own son," Cloud whispered, waiting until Vincent had calmed down a bit. "It broke your heart to think that he wasn't your son, and that you couldn't take him away from Shinra, or tell him the truth that Hojo hid from him."

  
  
  
  


"That's why . . .I didn't want to join your party, because seeing Sephiroth. . .like he was . . ." Vincent trailed off. "It would have been the death of Lucrecia's spirit, if she had been alive to see him grow up. But then, her spirit was crushed when she became pregnant with Hojo's childe. She had known that anyone birthed into the world having Hojo as a father . . ." his voice trailed off again, and he hung his head in shame. "I lied to her, Cloud . . . but it was for the best. She's in . . . the Lifestream now. Finally. And I can only hope . . .that she doesn't hate me for what I held back from her, from Sephiroth . . ."tears fell from Vincent's hard blood red eyes, making them seem softer, and kinder. 

  
  
  
  


"Everyone is counting on me, Vincent, so I guess I still have to pretend I can be strong. I'll be strong for you. I know how much this hurts for you." Vincent seemed baffled. "And stop blaming yourself. It's as much Sephiroth's fault as it is Shinra's, but he died knowing that he was wrong, Vincent. I saw it in his eyes. He's at peace now, don't you think?"

  
  
  
  


"Lifestream offers peace to all, Cloud. Perhaps even to you and me when we are gone." Vincent smiled, and Cloud smiled back. 

  
  
  
  


"So, will you tell me about Lucrecia?"

  
  
  
  


"It has been a long time since I have trusted someone so much," Vincent sighed. ". . .But I will. First, we have to find a way to get out of here . . ."

  
  
  
  



	11. The Apple of Eden

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: Yes, it's been a while since I've added a new chapter, so think it's a miracle. As always, review. I get really crappy reviews on anything else. (())

******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~**

  


  
  
  
  
  
  


_Chapter Eleven_

  
  
  
  
  
  


The sun was setting over a calm evening, and Lilith stood at the rear of the ship headed for Costa del Sol. It had been countless hours since she boarded it, leaving the North Crater behind. As she stood, contemplating the palette of colors the sky beheld, Lilith thought of how strange it was to be off somewhere on her own, not knowing when her next meal was, or even if she would ever have a warm bed. At Shinra, she had a hammock and a thin blanket, and a gold ticket to the cafeteria. The food supplied to the military was good enough. Sometimes the meals were hot. Sometimes she ate rations, just like them. Sometimes, if Hojo needed her for extended periods of time in the laboratory, she got nothing at all for up to three days. Hojo sometimes forgot the necessities of living organisms; other than the ones he had a particular fascination for.

  
  


The cafeteria was a place where hundreds of soldiers (ranks undeterminable as they were dressed down) came to socialize like school children. When she sat amongst them, hearing their laughter, she felt like she was a silent specter; someone that really wasn't there. She could never intrude upon their lives. She could only observe as their lives as war-machines halted for mere moments, and they remembered their lovemaking and friendships as they sat together, ate together, and talked together. It was in these moments that Lilith felt the loneliest, but she also felt the most free here. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ "Sephiroth!" a young man called out as the older man, never out of uniform, came into the cafeteria, his steps heavy. It was seldom that he ate with the members of SOLDIER. He usually took his meals in awkward hours, after long hours of preparing layouts of the day's events, and battle strategies. _

  
  
  
  


_ "Zack." Sephiroth's eyes stopped drifting over the masses of various faces. That was all he ever saw anymore - faces. Even after all the years of war and battle, Sephiroth memorized faces. Those of his foes, those of the ones supposedly on his side, those of his superiors, and especially the faces of the recruits. They had never seen death like he had. He had been desensitized from it. "I'll be blunt with you, Zack. You shouldn't get too attached to these recent jobs together." The silver-haired man produced a black folder, the Shinra seal clasping it together. "As always, look these papers over. If you have any questions, you'll need to ask Scarlet about it. She's been interested in these last expeditions."_

  
  


_ "Thanks! Hey, Sephiroth, do you want me to get ya some grub?" Zack asked, tucking the folder under his arm, managing to nearly drop it as he did so._

  
  


_ "That won't be necessary. Thank you. I will see you in a week, then." With that, Sephiroth turned on his heel as if commanding attention, and as he was about to leave, was stopped by a firm hand. _

  
  
  
  


_ "Here. At least take this, will ya?" An apple appeared before Sephiroth, and he stared at it for a long moment before taking it into his palm, looking at Zack over his shoulder. The younger man bowed respectfully and disappeared into a crowd of men his age. Sephiroth looked at the apple quizzically, then walked out of the cafeteria._

  
  
  
  


_ "They're all so ambitious," he muttered to himself as he passed Lilith's table on his way out. She watched as he walked away, in his own little world, not caring that she was there. He looked back to check that Zack was really among the throngs of people, not aware of him. He stared at the apple for a moment, and then threw it away, continuing to walk out, ignoring the Shinra recruits' stares. He was, after all, used to being their idol. _

_ As he walked away, Sephiroth looked at the apple, regarding it as if it was a way to tell him that Zack _had_ grown attached to him, and Lilith could see him checking amongst the throngs of people, to make sure he wasn't watching him. Sephiroth then threw the apple out and left the Cafeteria. It was then that Lilith decided that she should follow him, as his behavior today was odd. As she got up to leave, however, she saw Zack making his way through a line of men waiting for their food. He had seen Sephiroth throw out the apple after all. He bumped into her, and stared at her for a few everlasting moments, his eyes filled with horror, and then he slammed the double doors of the tightly packed area open. They closed again with a dull thud._

_ Lilith became very curious now, and went around the other side of the Cafeteria to sneak out. Zack had made quite a scene, running after the General like that. Rumors would be spreading like wild fire._

  
  
  
  


_ "Sephiroth!" Zack called after the silver-haired general, who was making his way from the cafeteria to the elevator. He turned around, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at the young man who ran up next to him, huffing and puffing as if he'd been in a race. Once he had caught his breath enough to speak, he flung his arms around the older man. _

_ Lilith then heard a noise behind her. She turned around expectantly to see a young blonde boy with unkept hair closing the door behind him. When he looked up and saw her, his eyes widened a bit. Lilith cursed herself for not wearing something that would conceal her hair. He was a recruit, but he somehow seemed so much younger. His big blue eyes hadn't been infused with makou yet, and his uniform was ridiculously baggy on his small body. He said nothing, however, because he had just come out here to check on Zack, because he was glancing in his way several times. _

  
  
  
  


_ "You're being a childe," Sephiroth hissed, moving away from Zack. The physical contact had left him clumsy, as his hands were shaking when he retrieved his things from the floor. Lilith had never seen him falter like that, and it was scaring her. He hadn't even faltered when Hojo broke his bones unceremoniously._

  
  
  
  


_ "Uhm, I'm--"_

  
  
  
  


_ "Yes, you're sorry. I know." His features were stony again. _

  
  
  
  


_ "It's just that . . ." Zack trailed of, scratching his head. He couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make him look stupid. Usually, as Lilith observed, that wouldn't mean anything to him, but now the silence between him and Sephiroth was extremely awkward, and she could sense that with every passing moment, Zack was more desperate to find something to say that wouldn't make Sephiroth even more unapproachable. "Last nighte meant a lot to me," he finally blurted out. Sephiroth turned away, starting to approach the elevator again, when Zack practically knocked him over, throwing his arms around his neck and pressing his hard lips to Sephiroth's. It seemed like, for a moment that he would return the kiss, but Sephiroth pushed Zack away roughly, leaving Zack on the floor. The boy next to Lilith was going to run toward Zack, abandoned on the floor, but she held him back, whispering some soothing things into his ear, and there was silence for some odd seconds before Zack, started to cry. _

  
  



	12. I Remember You

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: I was really happy after I'd finished this chapter, because I wrote it in one of those state's where your fingers seem to float across the keyboard as if uninhibited, the words seeming to come not from yourself, but from somewhere else. I love when that happens, because I produce my best work like that, and I get things done so much quicker. No agonizing, either. Anyway, you should all enjoy; the plots become one here, and the story will continue in one continuous stream from here on out. Shakespeare I'm not, but deal with it. As always, please review. 

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**_Chapter Twelve_**

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Sephiroth gasped as he reeled backward. He seemed so frail, now that he was dying . . . and his eyes were impossibly wide, shocked, and then they fluttered open, closed. His long silver eyelashes closed tightly, blood running down his face, mixing with now streaming tears, warm and life-giving and taking red. So red it startled the eyes in the brightness of Lifestream's portal. He looked at me again, and dropped his sword, Masamune, to the ground, but there was no thud. Lifestream swallowed all sounds. His lips were moving, but Cloud could not hear. But there was laughter in Cloud's head; children's laughter. It was so cold that Sephiroth's blood began to harden, and as his beautiful silver hair began to fan out beside him, he reached out toward Cloud, who stood, dumbly, looking into his former idol's dying eyes. He was transfixed, as Sephiroth slowly became unrecognizable, particles of matter that Lifestream sucked into a void of endless lighte. _

_ Cloud fell to his knees, the lighte surrounding him, and he tried to grasp it, Sephiroth's name on his lips, but no sound came back to him. There was just the childe-like laughter in his mind, and Sephiroth's death. He brought his hands to his face, his eyes closed, and realized he had smeared something onto his face. When he opened his eyes to look at his hands, there was blackish blood staining his palms, and he screamed, even though no one could hear him, not even himself. He was inconsolable; he had no body to mourn. It was then that he realized how much he loved Sephiroth, how clouded it was by hate, and he continued to scream, the children in his head calling him a murder, and then everything ceased. He felt Jenova's tie with him snapping, and then, he was too grief-striken to realize how or why . . . but he wanted those voices back, just so that he could have a reason to feel his life slip from him._

  
  
  
  
  
  


Cloud awoke, his body propelling forward violently, and he began to scream, holding his hands in front of his eyes, curled so tightly that they became white. He saw blood on them, nothing but blood dripping; Sephiroth's blood. He ran to the edge of the ship's bow and started to vomit, his knees weak, his hands gripping the side of the boat as if he would fall overboard. He hadn't noticed the woman beside him that he had knocked aside. She watched as he slid slowly the floor of the ship's surface, and she remained silent as he slowly started to calm. He was rocking back and forth, keeping his hands in front of him, his eyes staring at them, yet seeming to see past them into another world, where he was all right, where everything was all right. Tears slowly formed in his eyes, and he blinked, sending them running down his sun-roughed cheeks. His hands slowly wrapped around him and he continued to rock, trying to calm himself down. 

  
  
  
  


"Are you okay now?" a voice asked Cloud, low and seemingly genderless. It was almost perfectly female, but . . . there was something about it. He looked up to see jade-colored eyes, almost translucent white skin, and perfectly silver hair. He covered his mouth with a hand, almost choking on a scream that he didn't want to escape. He stared in perfect horror. Was this image here to torture him? The person before him was so like Sephiroth . . . so perfectly like him that he almost felt a happiness laced with that horror. He heard footsteps behind him, and then a still pause from those footsteps, realizing that it was Vincent; he knew the sound of his armored shoes well. Cloud felt saved from having to answer. He didn't want to hear that voice again, but then he did. He watched the familiar face, and the wisp-like hair . . . it was much shorter than Sephiroth's had ever been . . . but it was silver, so very silver. And the black shimmering cloak about this illusion's shoulders was leather. A dull, weathered, leather. But . . . it reminding Cloud of _him_. Time seemed to slow as he stared at this specter. 

  
  
  
  


"Lilith?" Vincent's low perfectly apathetic voice asked, and Cloud's illusion shattered. He cursed himself for silently wishing it was Sephiroth. He felt very wrong at that moment . . . there was something very wrong with _him_. He watched as the illususion faded from his eyes, and he saw the differences between her and Sephiroth. She was what Sephiroth would have looked like, if he was a woman. She was a lot more frail, there was seemingly nothing about her that looked strong, but Cloud figured that that was a deception. She had scars running along her arms, he noticed, as her cloak moved in the wind, and he caught the roman numeral three tattooed onto her arm, exactly where Sephiroth's had been. She smiled bitter sweetly, and nodded.

  
  
  
  


"Yes." She spoke the word as if it had three separate syllables, and once again, Cloud compared the difference. Suddenly, he remembered that she had been his saving grace after Zack had died, and he was found lying beside his cold corpse, no tears left in him to shed, the Makou poisoning eating his life away. He had been in a coma. He had told this story to Vincent; how Lilith had put him on his feet and showed him how to use the sword that Zack had left behind, the only token he had of him. Zack's body had been left there, because to risk taking back the dead into Midgar's slums from the outskirts was to risk death. The Shinra soldiers always could tell who were the sentimental ones were: they were always the quickest kills. Is that what they thought Zack as? A quick kill? Just because he was protecting Cloud? 

Cloud closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he felt Vincent's flesh arm on his shoulder. He was smiling slightly at Cloud. 

  
  
  
  


"Did you have a nightmare again?"

  
  
  
  


"Yes," Cloud responded rather curtly. Lilith's cloak rustled again, and she placed it in a heap on the floor. Her army boots sounded with crisp leather as she got a hold of Cloud's chin. Her hands were soft; he remembered that she's been a sniper, like Vincent, and had never used a sword. That was the opposite of Sephiroth. He would never dishonor himself with using such a weapon. 

  
  
  
  


"Do you remember me, Cloud . . .?" Again the words were drawn out, as if she were to too tired to speak them at normal speed. It was strange, but she reminded him, now that he was paying attention to more than just her looks, of Vincent. Cloud smiled at her slowly and nodded.

  
  
  
  


"Yes, I remember you," Cloud answered. "I was too shaken . . . about how much you look like him . . . at first."

  
  
  
  


"I know," Lilith smiled back. Her smile was warm. It shocked him a little. Her face was so much like his, but . . . that smile was entirely her own. He had never seen Sephiroth smile warmly. He had seen the smile of insanity on his lips . . . but never a kind one. Sephiroth had never been kind; not that Cloud really blamed him. "It's good to know that I am not alone. Even for these few moments. I have been in the North Crater for a long time now." Cloud felt his heart sink with those words. She seemed so sad . . . so beautifully sad. He found himself staring into her eyes, transfixed, until Vincent's voice broke his reverie.

  
  
  
  


"Can we hear what your nightmare was about?" He seemed worried. Cloud was grateful for Vincent's companionship, but . . . in many ways, he felt how his feelings transformed when Sephiroth died to be very personal . . .but then, Vincent had shared with him many things he had found too personal as well, so Cloud relented.

  
  
  
  


"It was Sephiroth's death . . . I saw as I shattered him once more. And every time I dream it, his eyes grow a little softer . . . giving up a little more remorse for what he's done . . . apologizing without words for what he's put me through. He even apologizes for what I put myself through. And every time I have that dream, I'm more horrified when I see his blood on my hands, and I slip a little further from my sanity. I wish I could have reasoned with him . . . I wish I could have shown him something better. Every time I have a dream about him, I realize how much we were alike, and how much Sephiroth knew that, but couldn't express it in the right way . . .not with Jenova force-feeding him illusionary lies that soothed, yet killed his humanity. 

I know it sounds crazy, but I loved Sephiroth . . . as more than just my idol . . . I loved Sephiroth very dearly, and I was too clouded by my hatred of his actions, that I couldn't realize it. I couldn't realize that what he did was never entirely his own fault." Tears began to stream down Cloud's cheeks, and Lilith frowned down at him, knowing exactly how he felt, because she had loved Sephiroth in the same way . . . but she had been his half-sister . . . and he had never paid attention to her, mostly because they were always kept away from each other, and Sephiroth was never the one to approach anyone, unless ordered to. But she had realized that he had physical "intimacies" with Zack, even though Zack wasn't his type . . . he was just using the raven-haired boy . . . just like everyone had used him. 


	13. Sojourn

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: Hey! Look! ANOTHER chapter! Aren't you folks lucky? Three chapters have been updated in three days. And guess what? Cloud doesn't throw up in this one! Hehe, Cloud could be Stan from South Park, we'll never know.

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Chapter Thirteen

  
  
  
  
  
  


"You look . . . so much like Lucrecia," Cloud heard distantly as he woke up. From the scent of the air in the room, and the darkness that seemed to cling to him, he could tell that it was somewhere near Midgar. Had he been asleep that long? No, not really. He remembered the beginning of Vincent and Lilith's reunion conversation. Cloud flinched . . . reunion. But this was a joyous occasion. Vincent sounded so . . . happy, for once. Cloud smiled to himself. He had had a dreamless sleep because of the sleeping pills he had taken. In a way, it was scary, because he had always had dreams, and not having one made his sleep uneasy . . . like death. It was exactly like death. He tried not to think about it right now. He decided he'd fall back asleep, to see if his mind would make up for the dreamless hours he had been asleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Zack smiled at Cloud as he entered the shower stall next to him. The boy was just undressing, and seeing Zack slip into the shower completely naked, on the first day they had met made Cloud stiffen. Would this be what a SOLDIER life was like? Zack seemed like he was the most popular in the miliary right up next to Sephiroth. It had only been two weeks since Cloud had arrived at Shinra . . . and he was still having trouble with this shower thing. It was natural for him to have a problem with it. He hadn't even kissed a girl . . . let alone seen anyone else naked. Granted, these soldiers were his same sex, and he shouldn't have a problem with it because he had the same . . . equipment, but some of them were men . . . and he couldn't help but stare. He felt very inadequate, very young and . . . small (in more ways than one). Cloud decided he'd stay there, his shirt half way over his head. He didn't care if he stank from fighting practice. Suddenly, he saw Zack's face peep from the sliding door of the stall, and he was grinning at Cloud, the water dripping from his wet raven hair. It stuck to his neck intimately. _

  
  
  
  


_ "Come on, Cloud! You do this every day. Just get in the shower. No one's going to look at you. I already claimed you." Zack's grin was wide. Cloud pulled his shirt back on and stared at Zack's face levelly, quizzically. _

  
  
  
  


_ "What do you mean, 'claimed me?'" he scrunched his face up, not liking where this was going. _

  
  
  
  


_"There are a lot of divas in SOLDIER, man. You know, fags? They like fresh meat. Poor recruits, I pity them. Of course, when I came here, it was the same. But I liked the attention. I still do. Cloud's face scrunched even more. He didn't quite understand. In Nibelheim, no one talked about such things as sexuality. His mother talked about sex as it was an exclusive thing, like a bar that wouldn't take you in until you were of age. His mother also never explained it very well . . . she used words like "flower" and "honey" and it always made Cloud's head hurt when he tried to get past her strange way of talking to him. He loved his mother, though, and he felt homesick just thinking of how he'd abandoned her. But she thought of him as a baby, her baby. He had thought he was a man . . . until the first day in SOLDIER. _

  
  
  
  


_ "What's that? Fag?" Cloud frowned, hugging the material of the Shinra grunt uniform to his chest. Zack laughed, and it almost sounded cruel._

  
  
  
  


_ "Wow! You surprise me every day! Hey, where'd you say you came from?" _

  
  
  
  


_ "Why should I tell you? You haven't even explained to me what 'fag' is," Cloud harumphed. Zack laughed even more. _

  
  
  
  


_ "It means you like other men," Zack said._

  
  
  
  


_ "Well, what's wrong with men? Why wouldn't I like them? They're okay. But women scare me . . ."_

  
  
  
  


_ "You're interesting, Cloud," Zack shook his head. "Now . . . take your shower. I promise no one will look at you. Except me, of course." This immediately made Cloud's cheeks turn red._

  
  
  
  


_ "No! My mother said that no one could look at me without my permission!" Cloud counterattacked. Zack laughed again. Cloud thought him rather annoying._

  
  
  
  


_ "Well, if I let you look at me, can I look at you?" he proposed. Cloud froze again. He turned even more red. _

  
  
  
  


_ "But, I already saw you . . . when you were walking into the shower."_

  
  
  
  


_ "I guess you have to pay up, bub," Zack grinned, winningly. Cloud didn't think it was possible, but he felt his cheeks grow even hotter. He got even more annoyed. _

  
  
  
  


_ "No!" Cloud said stubbornly, and slammed the screen separating he and Zack shut. The older boy barely had time to get his head back into the stall. He stood, cocking his hips, hands placed over them, and he snorted. He had designs for this recruit. He had seen innocent, but this took the cake. Deflowering Cloud would be rather . . . well, interesting. As he continued to wash, he saw the outline of Cloud's body as he stripped from his clothing, and set it outside the stall. Zack wouldn't be surprised if someone came and stole his uniform; the higher classes were like that to recruits. He continued to watch as Cloud turned on the water, which fell down on his hair, making it considerably more flat, but still holding its spiky shape. Zack held back a snicker. He had never seen hair that naturally took that shape, for sure. He needed to apply lots of _hair spray_, and afterwards, he felt very much like an olde rock band singer. He had his own little followers, too, but none of them were women. Nope; not at Shinra. Zack inwardly wondered if Cloud would drop his soap. The idea was plausible. He did notice, however, the little bulge at Cloud's outlined crotch. Zack raised a brow, thinking to himself that maybe Cloud would be easier than he thought._

  
  
  
  
  
  


Cloud woke up grimacing. That wasn't a good dream at all! If anything, it reminded him of how much of a jerk Zack was when he met him. Sex and fighting seemed to be the only thing that he was concerned with. He remembered that nighte that he had finally let Zack teach him what sex between two men; two _people _was . . . and he had remembered that it meant something to him . . . and he thought it meant something to Zack, too. But he soon found out from a sarcastic, jaded third class boy that Zack had used him. It was only a bet. Zack had gotten _money_ for taking his virginity. It had made Cloud so upset, that he thought about leaving . . . he was beginning to do very poorly in his classed as a grunt, and slowly . . . ascending in rank became meaningless to him . . . until Sephiroth, The _Great_ Sephiroth, suddenly appeared in the empty gym Cloud was in, staring at the Shinra sword they had given him. Most of the recruit boys had heirloom swords, passed through generations of fighters . . . but Cloud's only family was his mother; everyone else was dead . . . everything they owned destroyed. He was feeling particularly sorry for himself, and when he heard the clearing of a throat behind him, he was almost inclined to ignore it . . . until he noticed that the aura that person was giving off was rather . . . important. When he turned around, he dropped the sword, nearly stumbling to the ground.

And that was his first battle with Sephiroth, his idol. He seemed so sad . . . so wrong in this Shinra building . . . in that guise of General. It made Cloud respect him even more . . . But it also made him realize that he had came here to be like The Great Sephiroth, and if he was not happy with whom he was, would Cloud be happy in his position? He wasn't even happy as a grunt . . . but that had been Zack's fault. 

After that encounter with Sephiroth, everyone had been particularly mean to him-- even the other recruits-- and he had to share a room with six of them! He took showers with all of them ridiculing him . . . pointing out things about his body . . . and some of them offered him gil if he would give them head. Cloud was beyond miserable, until one day, when he was putting his uniform back into his locker, Zack showed up, pinning him against the locker so that he couldn't escape. At first, Cloud panicked, stiffening. Then he used a move on Zack he had learned in one of his classes that evening. Even though Zack was now a second class soldier, he let Cloud hit him, and only smiled. Soldiers were used to pain, and Cloud hadn't even done the move right. 

  
  
  
  


"What do _you_ want?!" Cloud had shouted, hissing venom. Zack only continued to grin. Zack could do many things, but consoling someone he had hurt . . . he simply didn't do that well. 

"I don't want anything, Cloud. I just want to protect you."

  
  
  
  


"Don't you mean that you want to fuck me? You already did that once, and I won't let you do it again," Cloud elbowed Zack, and kicked him in the crotch, scrambling away with his things once Zack had backed off from him. In actuality Zack had let him. He really wasn't hurt physically, but his pride was. He had just come to apologize, to say that he would spread it around that Cloud was none of the things people were calling him. Zack should have known that he would react like that. He was very young, and he didn't need to be treated like this.

When Zack found Cloud again, he was in the gym, alone, crying in the corner, his sword abandoned near the punching bag. When he realized someone else was in the room, he looked up, and immediately froze. 

  
  
  
  


"Get away from me!" he had screamed. Zack only advanced.

  
  
  
  


"Please, Cloud . . . I ain't gonna hurt you."

  
  
  
  


"You already did," Cloud said curtly. Zack frowned.

  
  
  
  


"I know. Look Cloud . . . that's why I came here . . . because I hurt you . . . And I'm sorry I did. If this was anyone else, I don't think I would have cared, but . . . I like you."

  
  
  
  


"So, you're a fag?" Cloud retorted, using the phrase Zack had in the shower a week ago. 

  
  
  
  


"I guess," Zack said. 

  
  
  
  


"Are you a _diva_ fag?"Cloud pressed. Zack paled.

  
  
  
  


"Uhm, I guess . . ."

  
  
  
  


"How do you know you're a 'diva fag?' There are no _girls _here."

  
  
  
  


"Uh, I don't know . . . I just . . . am . . . and stop calling me that."

  
  
  
  


"Why? You admitted it! You're a DIVA FAG!"

  
  


Zack turned the most amazing shade of scarlet that Cloud had ever seen.

  
  
  
  


"You look like a tomato!" Cloud laughed. Hard. Cloud had almost felt sad for Zack when he got his Just Dessert when Sephiroth wanted nothing from him but meaningless sex. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Knocking came from Cloud's door. He wiped the foolish grin spreading on his face off and came to it, never mind that he was in his boxers.

  
  
  
  


"Cloud?" The voice behind the door was Vincent's. He could hear the shower running in the room next to his, meaning that Lilith was taking a shower. Cloud held back a blush. He opened the door. Vincent was standing there, wearing black jeans, and a T-shirt that said _Loveless_ in faded silkscreen, the face of the girl on it equally as faded. Cloud remembered that play from when he saw the huge billboard as he bought a flower from Aerith the first time he had met her. Vincent noticed the way Cloud was staring at the shirt, and he shrugged casually. "I found some clothes in the room, and I washed them downstairs. Here's some for you," he said, and he handed Cloud a faded gray shirt that said, "Love me, love my attitude . . . Or GET LOST!!" and very faded and ripped stonewashed pair of light blue jeans. Cloud narrowed his eyes when he read the T-shirt. Vincent laughed shortly. "Ready to go into Midgar?"

  
  
  
  


"It's not going to be pretty," Cloud frowned. 

  
  
  
  


"From what I've heard, it never was," Vincent reassured, but Cloud got the image of a body-strewn wasteland into his head . . . and that was all he could think about when he took a shower and dressed.


	14. A New Beginning

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: Yes, it's another chapter. How special for you, eh? Yesterday's chapter was considerably lighter than the rest of the chapters, but this one is kind of bitter sweet. Drat, Cloud doesn't throw up.

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Chapter Fourteen

  
  
  
  
  
  


Midgar was everything that Cloud had expected. There was rubble everywhere, and upon inspection, the plate had crashed to the lower level slums, leaving everything caressed by the sun. But it was a cruel kind of lighte, for every once in a while, there would be a group of charred corpses, destroyed by Meteor and Holy. The SOLDIER members were the most unrecognizable of all. The only thing left to identify their roles, were their melted swords, Shinra's insignia half way burned off. It was a ghastly sight. 

Lilith commented to the horrified Cloud that she had always wanted to see what life was like for the common citizen, and when she finally had, she knew she'd never fit in. They loathed Shinra, and everything about her was Shinra, because she was a product of experimentation. That was when she found Aiden.

  
  
  
  


"Aiden sought me out of the crowd of normal citizens, like everyone else had, but he was kind. He understood, because he was a SOLDIER first class," Lilith explained. "When he died, he said he died for me. I told him not to say such things . . . but . . . it was too late. I've seen the makou leave a person's eyes before they died many times, but I thought, at that time, that it was never more beautiful or sad. He had hazel eyes . . . before he was infused with makou." Lilith was like Sephiroth in this respect. As she talked about someone she cared for very much, there was little emotion on her face, but there was a hint of it in her voice. It was the same when Cloud heard Sephiroth talk about Professor Gast. His respect was laced with sadness. So was Lilith's. Vincent was silent--as usual--walking with purpose. The death around him seemingly unaffected him, but Cloud knew that he was silently blaming himself for it, somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind.

  
  
  
  


"I felt the same way when Zack died," Cloud said, many minutes after, if only just to break the awkward silence. Lilith looked down at him, smiling sadly. Before she could say anything, however, Vincent swung his mechanical arm out as a barrier so that Cloud and Lilith would not walk forward. The throttle of a vehicle could be heard, and it was coming this way. Cloud was pleased that Vincent used to be in the Turks at this moment; his senses were heightened, and he always kept a gun on him. He had Death Penalty (his ultimate weapon) in his hand and cocked in a split second. And Lilith had a strange looking rifle out as well. It glowed a faint green, and ribbons of the gun's material coated her upper arm, glowing the same faint green. 

  
  
  
  


"Organics," Lilith whispered to Cloud. He was familiar with the mold of the weapon and nodded, remaining silent. As the vehicle came closer, Vincent noticed the cannon gun attached to the hood and coaxed Lilith and Cloud back. He tumbled with grace behind a half-melted steel wall, and used that as his barricade. Lilith and Cloud joined him seconds after, Lilith tugging the blonde along with her protectively. The cannon had begun spewing ammo shortly after Vincent sprang out of the way. 

The vehicle made a sharp turn, screeching loudly as it pulled onto the curb where the three had been standing. A figure clad in ripped up faded black jeans and a white T-shirt ridden with holes jumped down from the driver's side of the front. Numerous things were strapped to his shoulders, across his chest, and holsters rested on his hips. They were slightly burned, too. Several others jumped from the vehicle. Strapped to the initial figure's head was a light, which streamed past his surroundings. Vincent held his gun ready, his eyes narrowed. 

  
  
  
  


"We saw you!" he shouted. Cloud grumbled. _Of course_the bastard saw his party; he was shooting like there was no tomorrow! One of his crew handed him a gun, which he cocked. 

  
  
  
  


"In the name of Neo-Midgar's new president, we demand that you come out, hands raised!" another of his crew yelled. Neo-Midgar? President? These extravagantly armored attackers looked like kids to Cloud. He wondered if Lilith and Vincent saw that, too. 

  
  
  
  


"Wait here," Vincent whispered to Cloud and Lilith, and he eased his way across the barricade, stepping out from the protection. He had his gun aimed at whomever this "president" was, his clawed arm ready at his side. "Drop your weapons, and I'll drop mine!" Slowly, the crew complied, dropping their heavy artillery to the ground. Vincent dropped Death Penalty to the ground then, and slowly advanced. Two other figures came running from the vehicle, excitedly.

  
  
  
  


"Vincent!" they both exclaimed at the same time. They dropped their helmets to the side, and made their way to where the "president" stood, explaining who Vincent was to the boy. Vincent remained where he was, slightly perplexed, but then he saw Yuffie bounce her way to where he stood, grinning obnoxiously. "Hiiii!!!" she beamed. 

  
  
  
  


"What are you and Tifa doing here?" Vincent asked. Cloud came from behind the barricade, Lilith walking after him, putting her Organics gun back into its holster, where the glowing green faded to a dull emerald. It was no longer in contact to her skin. 

  
  
  
  


"CLOUD!!!" Tifa yelled from across the distance. She seemed so excited she could just die right there. The boy she was talking to sweat dropped as she ran over and crushed Cloud in a great big bear hug. 

  
  
  
  


"We've been helping these guys restore Midgar," Yuffie explained to Vincent.

  
  
  
  


"Ah," he responded, going to retrieve his gun. Meanwhile, Cloud turned purple.

  
  
  
  


"I need to _breathe_, Tifa!" Cloud exclaimed, breaking the hug, breathing in big gulps as he stood, slouching. Lilith walked over to Vincent, and hid behind him. Tifa faltered as she noticed her. She was exceptionally tall. She was just about Vincent's height, and the fact that she looked remarkably like Sephiroth didn't escape her. It didn't on Yuffie, either.

  
  
  
  


"Sephiroth?!" Both girls exclaimed. Cloud shook his head, lightening quick. 

  
  
  
  


"This," Vincent said, gesturing toward Lilith, "is Sephiroth's half-sister, Lilith. I'll have to explain it to you later." Neither Tifa nor Yuffie was happy about that, as they were eyeing Lilith suspiciously. Cloud was still hacking and coughing, trying to breathe. Yuffie giggled at him. 

  
  
  
  


"We've gathered a lot of materia," Yuffie said. "Materia lost its magick, though, when Lifestream destroyed Meteor and Holy, though, and returned it to the North Crater, so that all of the spirits can work to mend the planet's wound. At first," she continued, "I was really pissed, but then I saw that these make really pretty gems. Because they're so rare, as the makou rivers have dried up, we could get a lot of money for selling these babies, as like rings and stuff." Vincent noted that Yuffie seemed a little bit more mature. She'd make, at the very least, an interesting businesswoman. 

  
  
  
  


"We've also been burning the bodies of the dead citizens and Shinra soldiers," Tifa sighed. "There's . . . Too many to individually bury them, but it will at least give us all some kind of closure." She smiles grimly, wiping some sweat from her brow. Something caught her attention, and she ran over to a clearing, why there was no junk in the way, and kneeled down beside a flower that was growing from beneath the ground. The lighte from the movement of the plate was spilling onto this tiny area, and aiding the flower to grow. She looked up at the shaft of lighte and began to grin ecstatically. The "president," followed by those of his crew gathered around the flower, careful as to not disturb the lighte. 

  
  
  
  


"This is a joyous thing! We should begin removing the plate immediately!" the boy cried out, and those around him cheered for the proposal. Cloud smiled and knelt by the flower. 

  
  
  
  


"Aerith's death wasn't in vain," Cloud whispered softly to the little struggling plant.

  
  



	15. Rememberances and A Father

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: Once again, ANOTHER chapter of Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain! Dear Lucifer do I hate Tifa. Anyway . . . hey! Cloud doesn't throw up again! Hehhehheh. He should get his just dessert soon, though. The way I'm updating this should tell you that I have absolutely no life, though. Oh foo. Cooped up in a house, no one to love me. Please review? No one's been reviewing since the updates! *sniffs* *pleads desperately*

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Chapter Fifteen

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Lilith stared down at his face. She didn't know that it could get so pale, because it already was. His face had never seen natural lighte. It only knew the lightes of the laboratory. And his eyes . . . they were creepy. Lilith knew the symptoms of Makou Poisoning, and she knew that this was a very high degree of the sickness, because his jade-colored eyes were now a disturbing shade of misty, glowing blue, and they were open . . . staring up at the ceiling._

_ Lilith would not even know that he was alive, if it wasn't for the heart monitor he was hooked up to, which steadily read his heart beat. The IV extending from his forearm carefully administered calculated measures of morphine when the computer he was also hooked up to beeped, meaning that the morphine's effects had probably worn off. It was a measure of time in relation to the amount of Cc's of morphine administered._

_ But the way his eyes stared like that . . . it made Lilith shiver._

_ She remembered the last time Sephiroth had Makou Poisoning. Professor Gast had carried Lilith in, propped her on his hip, and was holding the boy's hand. Slowly, they curled about his fingers, and the man smiled down at him. She remembered asking Gast if she could have a dress. She'd read Sleeping Beauty, and knew that all little girls wore dresses. Like the beautiful sleeping princess in the book, Lilith wanted her dress to be fashioned by magick. She knew that Professor Gast hadn't believed in magick, but the science of the planet, and its spirit energy used in that science. But a little girl was a little girl . . . even if she had been subjected to things no other little girl would be. _

_ Suddenly, she saw Sephiroth's eyes close and flutter open naturally, his eyes returning to their color, his expression now grim, instead of slack. _

  
  
  
  


_ "Professor . . . Gast is . . . dead," Sephiroth struggled to say, and two tears fell down his cheeks. He cried even harder because he did not know what it was to cry . . . he had never done so until now. Lilith remembered taking his hand, nearly immovable because of the medication he was on. His skin was icy to the touch, like he really had been dead. His breath continued to come out evenly, however. Lilith didn't know how Sephiroth would know such a thing, unless it was due to his condition. Lilith just smiled at him until he fell asleep. Soon after, Vincent came into the room. He came over to Lilith, and patted her on the head, smiling slowly. _

  
  
  
  


_ "It's Sephiroth's twelfth birthday today, so that means that you're nine," Vincent said. She and Sephiroth's birthday was determined by the date they started injection outside of the womb. This was the first time that Lilith had heard her age, and she smiled. She thought she was so much older by now, but she supposed that it wasn't so bad. She wished that she knew just how a _normal_ nine-year-old girl acted. Rufus was six, but he didn't act much like a childe . . . it was more like he acted like the future heir to a monopoly, which was exactly what he was. There was nothing Rufus Shinra couldn't have. _

_ Lilith walked over to the window of the infirmary, looking down below the plate at the tiny structures of Midgar, and the train that supposedly passed ever ten minutes. Hugging her teddy bear, she sighed greatly, and looked back to Sephiroth, who was now awake, staring at her intently. She whirled back to the window, covering her head with the scarf that was around her neck. Vincent was talking gently to Sephiroth, telling him in the most sensitive way that Professor Gast had passed away. Lilith wondered absently how he had known once more, but she knew . . . in the back of her mind, that she had the same capabilities as Sephiroth had. Closing her eyes had brought everything clear to her._

  
  


_***_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ The infant stared up at Professor Gast with large emerald eyes, capable of seeing wonderful sights that only one new to this world could harbor. He smiled, and thought them to be the most beautiful eyes, because they were exactly like Ilfalna's. The Cetra experimentation kept growing more and more distant in urgency for Gast every time he looked into that beautiful woman's eyes. She beckoned to him, and he came, holding little Aerith like a treasure, a delicate and new star cradled in his universe. She giggled, and Ilfalna laughed too. So did Gast. They were a family. _

_ Gast had never thought he would have children, but he loved them dearly. Looking at Aerith reminded him of Sephiroth and Lilith and he was almost inclined to frown. They would never have the chances at life that Aerith would. It was the first time he thought of them in months. Gast pushed it out of his mind hurriedly. This was his life now. Ilfalna and Aerith were the only people he had to be concerned of. Smiling, he turned on the camera built into the contraption stationed at the side of the house, and with all importance, showed off Aerith to the camera._

_ And then someone knocked on the door, sounding terribly important. Gast was not pleased. Everyone knew that he was not to be disturbed. Handing Aerith over to Ilfalna, he walked to the door, opening it, only to have Hojo storm in, flanked by a hideous amount of Shinra soldiers. As gunfire broke out, the camera was destroyed. Ilfalna screamed, holding tightly to her baby as her husband died. And then she ran . . . faster than she could ever possibly run, gunshots worming their way into her arm and her side. Gast's last words were instructing Ilfalna to go to Midgar with Aerith, to save her._

  
  
  
  
  
  


Lilith could see the stars as she looked up, but only faintly. It was after all, the city, and when Shinra ran Midgar as its base, it was also the most polluted place in the whole planet. The North Crater was so pure, Lilith remembered. The snow was untouched, always falling anew. The nighte sky was full of lovely stars. Lilith knew all of the constellations because she loved Astrology. She took all of the books on the subject from the Shinra building's library for resources, and devoured each one. This included books on Astrologists, her favorite being Ptolemy. She loved romantic notions such as "From the dawn of civilization, humans have looked with wonder and awe at the heavens, seeking to understand the nature of the sun, moon, planets, and stars. With the limited means available to them, ancient Mesopotamians, Egyptians, and Greeks studied the regular movements they saw in the sky."

She smiled as she searched for her favorite constellation, Cepheus, and then frowned, as it would be difficult to find in such a polluted city.

  
  
  
  


"Something wrong?" Vincent asked her. 

  
  
  
  


"I'm trying to look for a constellation," Lilith said, flustered. 

  
  
  
  


"Which one?" 

  
  
  
  


"Cepheus . . ." she muttered, still searching the sky. 

  
  
  
  


"It's a little more north, then," Vincent said, using his flesh arm to guide her hand up. Lilith sat, and looked at it, smiling. She stayed like that for a while until she realized.

  
  
  
  


"You know about the constellations?"

  
  
  
  


"Of course. Astrology was my favorite subject in school," Vincent said distantly.

  
  
  
  


"You were in the Turks . . . for a long time. Even before Sephiroth was born," Lilith whispered.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"I had no choice but to abandon my education to become a Turk. It paid well, and I was a good fighter," Vincent shrugged. "And then I met Lucrecia. Beautiful . . . Lucrecia." Lilith looked at this man who was supposed to be her father. Surely she was older than him physically, but he was closer to fifty in actuality. He would live forever with his guilt, that Lucrecia's death was his fault . . . that Sephiroth's death was his fault.

Tifa came stiduing over to where Vincent and Lilith sat. Cloud came after her, sitting next to Vincent. 

  
  
  
  


"Aren't they beautiful?" she commented, looking up to the sky. "It's such a clear nighte for them in Midgar. It reminds me of that nighte in Nibelheim, Cloud, when you promised me that you would be my knighte in shining armor!"

  
  
  
  


"But I'm no one's knighte," Cloud frowned. "It was a miracle we all survived."

  
  
  
  


"Nonsense, Cloud. It was because we all worked as a team. Would Aerith want you to say such a thing?"

  
  
  
  


"I don't know what Aerith would have wanted," Cloud shook his head, "but she was protecting us with Lifestream . . . in the end . . . but I really don't want to think about it much more," and he buried his head in his folded arms, feeling sick again. Tifa went to console Cloud, but Vincent shook his head. Tifa sighed, and kicked at a rock with her booted feet, fidgetting with the oversized shirt she was wearing.

  
  
  
  


"So, do you guys want something to eat before we start our funeral, of sorts?" Tifa finally asked. Lilith, noting that she hadn't eaten anything in three days, nodded. Vinxcent had been looking at her expectantly. She found it strange, but he was the same as when he came to check up on her and Sephiroth. He kept to himself, but he was very caring. He still felt like her father. Yesterday was the first time she had hugged anybody. Usually, any kind of contact reminded her of Hojo's experimentations, but . . . with Vincent, it was different. 

Lilith regarded this Tifa woman. She was quite short, mousy for sure. Her hair was long and tied at the end, and she wore extensive pads covering her elbows, forearms, and shins. She looked like she would have a mean kick. But she didn't feel that there was anything _to _Tifa. She seemed very stuck in the past, and she had been clinging to Cloud for the past few hours. Suddenly, a gloved hand was extended to her. Lilith drew back a little, but then took it, shaking it lightly. Tifa had a nice grip. She was smiling widely at Lilith. 

  
  
  
  


"I'm sorry I was judging you," she said. Her slight bangs were ruffling in the wind, and her chocolate brown eyes were twinkling in the nighte. "Now, when I come back from rustlin' up some grub, will you tell me your story?"

  
  
  
  
  
  


"It's okay," Lilith responded. " And sure, although I'm not so sure if it will be all that interesting." 


	16. Lilith, With All Her Heart

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aurthor's Note: I have no life, and you don't care, because no one is reading this, la de da. Anyway, this way completed shortly after the author threw herself around the house in a blind attempt to cure boredom. I've gone insane from it. Oh yes. 

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___Chapter Sixteen_

  
  
  
  
  
  


The food was interesting . . . if anything else. The "president" was drinking one of the expensive 200 gil juices that was procured from a beaten up vending machine of a caved in store, and had various other goodies piled upon a blanket in front of him. Lilith stared down at her food. It probably wasn't all that healthy, but she understood that this was all that they could find in the Midgar shops that wasn't absolutely ruined or rotten.

Tifa and Yuffie were sitting across from her cross-legged. The "president," however, was sitting next to her, eating generously of the food. They prompted her to tell her story, and she did. She told of her days as a neglected Hojo specimen, and of her detached relations with Sephiroth. She told them that every time they would meet, he was brainwashed, except for the one time when he saw her and received a vision of Lucrecia. She talked about Lucrecia and Vincent, how Lucrecia had died shortly after she was born. She told them how she wandered Midgar as a mercenary and met up with Aiden, and how he died to protect her. She told them over the funeral of the dead citizens how she had come upon Cloud before Aiden's death, and how she helped him ease out of the case of Makou Poisoning he had, and how it had reminded her of the many times Sephiroth had gotten it. And as the dawn rose, she told them about her part in the Reunion at North Crater, how she was spared from Holy's affects, even though the Sephiroth "clones" around her were burned to a crisp. She had received burns running up her arms trying to save them, but they had wanted to die. It pained Lilith to hear such a thing.

Finally, Lilith told them about how she had met up with Cloud and Vincent, and how they had all wanted to go to Midgar to see how badly it was shattered, and to help bring it back together. The stench in the air was horrid. There was nothing akin to the stench of burnt flesh. It wasn't just one body. It was most of the citizens. So many were dead. As Lilith ended her tale, those crowded around, including the new president's crew, remained silent and pensive. Finally, the new president spoke up.

  
  
  
  


"Your life was ruined by the Shinra, like all of ours, but see how we won in the end? Welcome to Neo-Midgar, Lilith." He stuck out his hand for her to shake, and she took it graciously. "My name is Cain," he said to Vincent, Lilith, and Cloud. He shook their hands in turn. The morning sun over Midgar was beautiful, and a lot stronger than it had been the day before. Tifa took a canteen of water from her belt buckle and walked over to the flower, watering it timidly. "This," the newly introduced Cain said, gesturing toward a girl of about sixteen who had dark hair and sparkling blue eyes, "is Linora. She drives the Ragnarok, back there," Cain said pointing toward the vehicle. The pretty dark-haired girl smiled. 

  
  
  
  


"Ragnarok is what we used to call the mutation Dragons that lurked everywhere," she explained. 

  
  
  
  


"Pesky things," Cloud muttered at her, after having been silent for so long, a very uncharacteristic thing for him to do. Linora frowned.

  
  
  
  


"They couldn't help it. They were altered, like the residents of this planet that joined SOLDIER, and were duped by the promises of Shinra, like us all."

  
  
  
  


"Are there others like you that are helping Midgar get back to its original state?" Vincent asked. Cain nodded.

  
  
  
  


"There are a few others," Cain said, gesturing to Midgar's current state," but most of the citizens that have survived Meteor and Holy's attack, have fled. Mainly to Costa Del Sol, I've heard."

  
  
  
  


"Yeah, we noticed," Cloud muttered, remembering the Angry Villager scene that was enfolding before him and Vincent when they were staying at the Shinra inn. Hee sweat dropped. Tifa came striding back with the canteen reattached to her belt. She was smiling sweetly. Cloud suddenly got an idea.

  
  
  
  


"Cain, do you know what kind of shape Sector 5 is in?" Cloud asked.

  
  
  
  


"It's a lot worse than here, since it's so near the center," Cain frowned. "Why?"

  
  
  
  


"I want to visit Aerith's church," Cloud said. "It was the only place where anything could ever grow in Midgar."

  
  
  
  


"I think that 'flower' is really a sapling, Cloud! Just think . . . trees in Midgar! I think we should name it!"

  
  
  
  


"Yddrasil," Vincent said, grinning. "The tree of knowledge, where everything had started."

  
  
  
  


"Yddrasil," Tifa said, grinning, seeing how it rolled on her tongue. She decided she liked it. "What's that from, Vincent?"

  
  
  
  


"An olde myth, Tifa."

  
  
  
  


"Very olde," Cloud commented. He had, after all, been born in Nibelheim. Norse Mythology was something of a tradition for him to hear about. His mother would beam with pride when she recollected that their surname had been in connection with the fire god, Loki. Loki always got himself into strife, but always had a trick up his sleeve to get himself out of it. Cloud smiled when he thought of the spirit Odin in his summon materia stash that he had used several hundreds of times on his journey with his friends. Odin was his favorite summon. Oddly enough, Cid's was . . . Shiva. Cloud couldn't figure out way. He sweat dropped again.

  
  
  
  


"What are you thinking about, Cloud?" Vincent asked, when he saw Cloud smile.

  
  
  
  


"Odin," he responded. "Do you think he's at the North Crater, too?"

  
  
  
  


"Definitely, Cloud. The Planet needs all of the help that it can get," Vincent responded.

  
  
  
  


"That's why we're pickin' up this dump!" Cain said, grinning madly. The crew, including Tifa and Yuffie, whooped loudly, their fists held high in the air. A raucous of laughter passed through them. They weren't going to let the devastation of the Planet's situation down. They would help right what Sephiroth and Jenova had wronged. Even what Shinra had. "It's going to take a _damn_ loooooooonnnnng time to correct, but all of our misgivings are going to be erased," Cain continued, "and I'll be the one to lead us all into victory. Me, Cain Gaius!" More fists held high into the air. More raucous laughter. Cloud couldn't help but smile. It was such a romantic notion, to think of Midgar being a peaceful place where everything was in order, and the people were more or less happy. It reminded Cloud of the Utopian Ideal. And that seemed impossible.

  
  
  
  


"Can I hear about this Aerith?" Lilith suddenly spoke up. Cloud smiled. Aerith would love it if he told her story, he knew. But he also wanted to get to Sector 5 hurriedly. He was anxious to see how Aerith's garden had flourished, or . . . if it was quenched. 

  
  
  
  


"Do you mind if we go to Sector 5 now? I can tell you all about Aerith as we drive there." Cloud put on a very Zack-like grin. Cain shrugged. He didn't see much of a problem with it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"My crew can go days without sleeping," he said. "And you're the most interesting thing that's happened to us since Tifa and Yuffie." Yuffie rasberried Cloud at that. Cloud blinked very slowly. What was Yuffie's problem? He had never very much liked her anyway. 


	17. Hope was Left in Pandora's Box

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


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Author's Note: A warning comes before this chapter. There's a bit of yaoi, and it's damn sad to all Hell, or something like that.

  
  
  
  


___Chapter Seventeen_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Lilith looked out the window at Midgar rushing by. She imagined a lush field, and a beautiful sky rolling by and smiled. Hearing about Aerith had made her think of all of the possibilities for this city. Cloud had told them about her, and occasionally Vincent and Tifa had broke in to add something. Yuffie was just silent. Lilith could feel her spirit getting closer and closer. Had Aerith really returned to the planet? Cloud turned toward Lilith, a confused look on his face. He had noticed the pull of her spirit, obviously. 

  
  
  
  


"What . . . is that?" Cain asked. Linora kept driving as normal, but she nodded.

  
  
  
  


"Yes . . . I feel it too."

  
  
  
  


"What the Hell is that?!" Yuffie demanded.

  
  
  
  


"It feels . . . so warm," Tifa smiled.

  
  
  
  


"One of the spirits hasn't returned to the planet," Vincent said, wonderingly, "but which one?"

  
  
  
  


"It's Aerith!" Cloud exclaimed, excitedly. Lilith nodded her ascent.

  
  
  
  


"She's been waiting for Cloud," Lilith said quietly. 

  
  
  
  


"She's a ghost, then. Why is her spirit so strong?" Cain asked.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"She's Aerith," Cloud said, smiling. "She wanted to make sure everything was just so . . . before she returned to the planet, and found her Promised Land. She was the last Cetra. She told me that she didn't know what it meant to speak with the planet. It seems she knows how to now." Cloud remembered when she had first spoke of the Promised Land. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


_It was nighte. Cloud was almost sure of it. From the sounds outside, the security was a little less strict. The nighte watchmen for the prison cells only remained. Some of them were talking down the hall. Cloud heard little of their conversations, but none of what they were saying was important . . . or interesting. He sat, wondering how they would get out of the Shinra jail. _

  
  
  
  


___"I wonder how Aerith is doing," he said, a little too loudly. Tifa, who was formerly sitting on the one cot they had in their cell in a dazed-like fashion, was about to say something, when Aerith's voice was heard from the side wall. _

  
  
  
  


_"Cloud, are you there?" Aerith asked. Her cot was near the wall, just like Cloud and Tifa's. Cloud practically jumped when he heard Aerith's voice._

  
  
  
  


_"Aerith?!" he said, moving against the wall, and then lowering his voice so as not to alert the guards. "You safe?"_

  
  
  
  


_"Yeah. I'm all right," she answered. Cloud could picture her smiling._

  
  
  
  


_"I knew that you'd come for me," she said. Cloud shrugged._

  
  
  
  


_"Hey, I'm your bodyguard, right?" He answered. He smiled, tapping at the design of SOLDIER on his broad belt, rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots. _

  
  
  
  


___"The deal was for one date, right?" Aerith giggled. Cloud looked to Tifa, who suddenly appeared flustered._

  
  
  
  


_"Oh, I get it," she said bitterly. Her arms folded over her chest._

  
  
  
  


___"Tifa!" Aerith sounded very surprised. Cloud mentally slapped himself. "Tifa, you're there too!" Now she sounded happy. Cloud blinked. He . . . didn't get women._

  
  
  
  


_"_Excuse_ me," Tifa said, standing up. To Cloud, it appeared like Tifa would start a rather irritating brawl of words with the Flower Girl. Cloud was going to stop Tifa, when her whole demeanor changed._

  
  
  
  


_"You know, Aerith, I have a question." Cloud _really _didn't get women. He sighed._

  
  
  
  


_"What's that?" Aerith asked sweetly._

  
  
  
  


_"Does the Promised Land really exist?"_

  
  
  
  


_"I . . . I don't know," Aerith replied, sounding saddened. Cloud frowned._

  
  
  
  


_"All I know is," Aerith started, and there was a pause as her boots made sounds against the floor, "the Cetra were born from the Planet, speak with the Planet, and unlock the Planet." Her boots made a scuffing noise as she turned around, possibly toward the wall. "And . . . then the Cetra will return to the Promised Land. A land that promises supreme happiness." Her voice had become whimsical and dreamy._

  
  
  
  


_"What does that mean?" Tifa asked quietly._

  
  
  
  


_"More than words . . . I don't know." Cloud could picture a sort of sad smile on her lips now. Her eyes were probably on the Heavens._

  
  
  
  


__"The Cetra were born from the Planet, speak with the Planet, and unlock the Planet. And then the Cetra will return to the Promised Land. A land that promises supreme happiness," Cloud said, reiterating Aerith's words. The faces of those in Ragnarok were dreamy, just as Aerith's was. They were full of hope . . . just like Aerith. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Sephiroth came down from the sky in a blinding flash, Masamune halfway in the ground of the Sleeping Forest's floor. He looked up from his crouching position at Cloud and smiled, his lips curling like an omen of misfortune. He looked like a dark knighte._

  
  
  
  


_"Kill her," he said simply. The searing pain came back to Cloud. It was always his eyes . . . his ears. He looked at his hands, wavng them in front of his face. They trailed with the motion, making his head swim. He gripped his head. Sephiroth snarled and got up, pulling Masamune from the ground effortlessly, the soil spurting as if a fountain. Suddenly, the pain was gone, and Cloud could hear a loud heartbeat. The ground seemed to shake, but he did not feel it. Sephiroth remained perfectly still, holding his sword at his side. Cloud tried to speak, but the pain came back. His anger was beyond words. "Doing it that way won't help you," Sephiroth commented. Cloud didn't understand. "Speak with your mind." Now that Sephiroth mentioned it, his lips hadn't been moving. He had been speaking into Cloud's mind. _

  
  
  
  


_"What are you talking about?!" Cloud growled. Sephiroth mirrored it with a laugh. He started walking toward Cloud, who immediately backed up. Sephiroth laughed again. _

  
  
  
  


_"You know your destiny," Sephiroth said. "I know mine. Mother and I--"_

  
  
  
  


_"Shut up!" Cloud shouted into Sephiroth's mind. Sephiroth shook his head, and sighed disappointedly. _

  
  
  
  


_"You still don't understand, Cloud?" Suddenly, he and Sephiroth were in Tifa's bedroom. Cloud didn't know how Sephiroth would know about this, but he tried to remain calm. Sephiroth seated himself at her piano and at his own leisure, removed his gloves and armlets. His pale hands rested on the keys, and he began to play a discordant tune. Cloud's eyes widened. He knew this tune very well. "Our minds are one, Cloud," Sephiroth grinned. More anger shook Cloud and he shuddered, his fists balling. "There's no need for such emotions," Sephiroth countered. He kept playing the tune, over and over. Cloud stared at his fingers as he played it, and he grew more angry._

  
  
  
  


_"Stop it!" Cloud shouted into Sephiroth's mind. Sephiroth sighed and stilled his hands, breaking the tune with even more discordant keys. He stared at them for a while, and sighed again._

  
  
  
  


_"Vincent taught me this tune," Sephiroth said, grinning again. Cloud didn't like that grin. He wanted to kill Sephiroth. He didn't understand why he thought that was so amusing. Cloud bared his teeth. He stopped, then blinked. _

  
  
  
  


_"Vincent? Wha?"_

  
  
  
  


_"Oh yes," Sephiroth said, returning to the tune. "Vincent taught me many things before _Hojo_ took him away." This made Cloud even more angry. He groped for his sword. "Don't even try that," Sephiroth said without looking up. Sure enough, as Cloud grabbed the hilt, it disappeared. "You're lucky that Mother likes you. You don't seem to want to listen. You're governed by your anger. Maybe that's why the Omega experiment didn't work." Sephiroth frowned. Cloud's sun-colored brows knitted together in confusion. _

  
  
  
  


_"What do you want, Sephiroth, god damn it?!" Cloud stepped forward, but was immediately held back by invisible restraints. Sephiroth smiled._

  
  
  
  


_"You . . . and Aerith's head on a platter," hesaid contemplatively. "It's beginning," Sephiroth said, his voice growing ominous. "Mother and I have almost found the Promised Land." He began to shake. "So . . . near." Then he swivelled around, put his gloves and armlets back on, and stood. "That Ancient girl stands between the careful plans Nother and I have worked so hard to gain. She encumbers our search. You must kill her, Cloud."_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"What?!" Cloud gasped, and he struggled, trying to pull himself free from whatever control Sephiroth had on him. Sephiroth frowned sadly. His theatrics were like a Greek play. He was his own ominous Chorus as well. He stepped toward Cloud and they were in the Sleeping Forest again. _

  
  
  
  


_"Beyond the forest is the City of the Ancients. The former home of the Cetra," Sephiroth said bitterly. Cloud knew that. He bared his teeth again. What was Sephiroth getting at? "The girl is there, praying for her miserable soul. You must kill her before she further ruins the plans that Mother and I have constructed so carefully." Then he yanked the back of Cloud's head forward, tugging sharply on his hair, and kissed Cloud's lips hard. He then smacked Cloud across the face, throttling him backward. The mind restraints had melted away quite suddenly. Sephiroth was gone, and when he woke up, he could still feel Sephiroth tongue in his mouth. _

  
  
  
  


__"Whoooaaa! Heeeyyyyyy! Planet to Cloud! PLANET TO FRIGGEN CLOUD!!!" Yuffie screeched, waving her arms obnoxiously in front of Cloud's eyes. Cloud snapped to attention to see everyone staring at him. He blushed slightly.__

  
  
  
  


"Where were you?" Tifa giggled.

  
  
  
  


"I was just remembering something Sephiroth said to me," Cloud responded. He scratched his head and shrugged.

  
  
  
  


"Damn bastard. I'm _damn_ glad he's dead. Materia's nil 'cause of him!" Yuffie exclaimed. Vincent smacked his forehead. 

  
  
  
  


"Anyway," Linora started, clearing her throat, "we're here." And she pointed to the huge corroded sign that now was crashed to the ground that said "Sector 5." Among the charred remains of that was a _Loveless_ sign. She opened the Ragnarok's front door, and scrambled down the side of the huge vehicle. Once everyone was out, Cloud led the way, running as fast as he could to get to the church, his legs taking his exhausted body across the way effortlessly. A peace was in his heart, washing over him. Aerith was so near . . . so near. He closed his eyes as he ran . . . letting her lead him toward her. He left everyone behind, but that didn't matter to him. When he finally reached the church, he took a minute to catch his breath, and then he looked up, smiling. The church was gone, no more than ashes, but everywhere there were flowers of all kinds. In the center was a lush tree. Everywhere was a beautiful lighte. 

  
  
  
  


"Lifestream," Cloud muttered, in awe. He saw things growing before his eyes. He walked forward and let the lighte bathe him. He smiled, and tears came to his eyes. It was so beautiful. Aerith's spirit was so pure. The lighte danced around him, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, Aerith's figure, transparent and so like a projection floated before him. She reached her hands out and touched Cloud's face, wiping away his tears. He felt warmth there, like she was real. 

  
  
  
  


"Don't cry, Cloud," she spoke into his mind. "You've come so far. You've done so much. And now the Planet is healing." Cloud's brows knitted together and he reached out to hug her, but his hands passed through her. More tears ran down his cheeks. He felt so foolish. Aerith was dead because he couldn't stop Sephiroth. He would never forgive him for that. But he also understood why he had done it. Sephiroth's wide dying eyes flashed into his head, and he wished he could embrace Aerith. Her image flickered, and she embraced Cloud. Warmth enveloped him. He smiled through his tears. "Don't blame yourself, or Sephiroth. He is helping to heal the Planet for his penance. He told me to tell you to be strong. And he also says, 'thank you', because you've set him free." Aerith's smile soothed him, but saddened him. He would never see it again. "I died hoping, Cloud. Remember that hope is always alive. Hope is the strongest thing in the world. It brought me so much closer to you and everyone else. It brought me so much closer to the Planet."

  
  
  
  


"I don't want you to leave," Cloud said, his shoulders shaking as he continued to cry. Somehow, with Aerith, it was okay to do so. She embraced him again. 

  
  
  
  


"I can't stay on this plane much longer," Aerith whispered. Cloud knew it. She would have to return to all of the spirits . . . where the Planet needed her. "But I will always be in your heart, Cloud," Aerith said, and her voice made him so calm that he stopped crying. She took his hands in hers and looked toward the blooming life. Her hair streamed about her head as if she was under water. "A part of me will always reside here in Midgar," Aerith continued, "helping it to be beautiful and full of life." 

The crew, Vincent, and Lilith finally caught up. They remained there, staring in awe, and were quiet as Cloud and Aerith were saying their goodbyes. Suddenly, Aerith floated toward all of them. She smiled at Vincent, Yuffie, and Tifa, in particular, and then at Lilith. Cloud joined her, and all of them bade her goodbye. Aerith hugged Vincent, Yuffie, and Tifa, and floated back to Cloud. 

  
  
  
  


"Remember, all of you . . . there is no Promised Land, but for the place that resides in your heart. To unlock the Planet, do everything with your heart and with others in mind. To speak with the Planet, you only need to listen." And then Aerith faded away, leaving a ghostly lighte behind her that encircled everyone. Cain tried to grasp at it, staring in wonder as it danced away into the Heavens. Cloud looked up as it disappeared, and he smiled softly, uttering Aerith's name one more time, whispering it gently. Happiness filled his chest as the others watched Aerith's spirit recede.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Author's Note AGAIN: I played Aerith's theme toward the end, and cried my ass off while writing it. I also played the Overworld Theme as I wrote the dream memory sequence. This has to be one of the best chapters I've written so far. I'm actually really pleased with it. Very much so. If you think Cloud has been acting OOC for the course of this, just remember that throughout most of the game Cloud was putting on an act, taking on Zack's characteristics. If you look closely, I've still written in some of those characteristics. But that's only if you actually like the story enough to take note of that, which I highly doubt that anyone does. And even though you might think that this story is over by the time you read the last paragraph, it isn't. There's still a little more to it. Oh well, enjoy. *gives the readers free boxes of Kleenex*

  
  



	18. I Only Want To Help

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Author's note: Cloud needs some comforting that Vincent can't give him. But is it a mistake?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Chapter Eighteen_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Lilith sighed up at the stars and at the boat underneath her boots. She couldn't help but think of a flashback she had had recently, when the news that Profesor Gast had died was told to her and Sephiroth, even though they both knew, because of Sephiroth's vision. n that flashback, Vincent had come into the room, but Vincent was gone then . . . somewhere Sephiroth and Lilith didn't know where. Was she just remembering that need, to be sheltered by someone that she cared about. She cared about Sephiroth, butshe didn't know him. What was behind those glowing green makou eyes was a mystery to Lilith. 

She tried to rwemember who had come into the room until revelation hit her. It had been Tseng. Tseng was rather cold, because he didn't know how to take care of children. When Sephiroth had recovered, Tseng came to Hojo, Sephiroth following him, expression grave. He told the scientist that President Shinra had installed Sephiroth in SOLDIER, and was no longer to be tested on. Sephiroth was twelve, as Tseng had stated. He was the youngest member of the military, and would do nicely, as he already had known how to use a sword, and how to fight. It was part of his experimentation. It was not a part of Lilith's, however. 

After Sephiroth was gone, Lilith took his room. It was bigger, but not by much. Hojo was trying to make her show signs of taking to the Jenova cells again, something that Hojo hadn't been interested in doing for a long time. She forced herself not to cry as Hojo broke her arms, asking her how it felt with the added dosage of Jenova cells, and makou drugging. Her bones were broken before without them. She was never more angry than when he asked her how it felt. She withheld his precious information, and was beaten severely for doing so. She remained in the hospital for two weeks. No one came to see her. She cried in the privacy of the sterile white room for hours, because she had no comfort . . . no Sephiroth, no Vincent. She had at least kept herself busy watching how Sephiroth lived. She liked to watch him practice with martial arts. She liked to know what he was reading. She missed, most of all, Vincent's stories about the Midgar Slums. Lilith could never look out the window. Her neck was in a tight brace. 

Lilith sighed again, and rummaged through her belongings. She had a flash lighte, a few tattered books, a blanket, and some gil. She chose one of the books, and started reading it. It was The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint Exupery; her favorite childehood book. Then she heard something shift beside her. She looked up, to see that Cloud was awake. She looked at him. He had been staring at her, she realized, because he looked away quickly, scratching his head. Lilith smiled slowly and put away the book.

  
  
  
  


"W-where's Vincent?" Cloud stammered.

  
  
  
  


"He went below deck to find a nice closet to get acquainted with," Lilith responded, chuckling. Cloud laughed with her. 

  
  
  
  


"So you know that he's your father?"

  
  
  
  


"He told me, yes. It's nice to finally know your last name," Lilith said, proudly. Cloud looked at her for a few moments, then he blushed and looked away, staring intently at his hands. Lilith looked up at the stars again. "We're almost at North Corel. How many knots do you think we're traveling at?"

  
  
  
  


"I-I don't know. I hate boats. They make me sick."

  
  
  
  


"You get sea sick?" Lilith asked.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Yeah," Cloud said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't like traveling."

  
  
  
  


"But you do so much of it, don't you? And you were in SOLDIER, right?"

  
  
  
  


"Only briefly," Cloud responded, "I was never a SOLDIER first class, like you thought I was . . . I only assumed that I was because of the way you reacted to the clothes that I was wearing when I woke up from the coma I had. But . . . you did teach me how to use my sword," Cloud said, confused.

  
  
  
  


"When you couldn't use it, I knew you weren't a SOLDIER first class, but . . . I never did say anything about it. Are you mad at me because of that?"

  
  
  
  


"No, of course not," Cloud responded. "You were just trying to help me." And then he got a little curious. "How did Aiden die, Lilith?"

  
  
  
  


"We were in Sector 7 when the plate fell," Lilith said, her voice growing sad. "He was the first real friend I had after Vincent."

  
  
  
  


"Did you love him?" Cloud asked. Lilith turned to Cloud. He was gripping his knees.

  
  
  
  


"No. He was just a close friend. Aiden liked to sleep around a lot. Mostly with men."

  
  
  
  


"Oh," Cloud said quietly. 

  
  
  
  


"How old are you now, Cloud?" Lilith asked, taking Cloud's hand. He blushed, obviously embarrassed. Lilith was looking right at him. 

  
  
  
  


"Twenty-two," Cloud finally said. "My birthday was last month."

  
  
  
  


"I'm twenty-eight," Lilith said. "Three years younger than Sephiroth." Cloud swallowed hard at that last statement.

  
  
  
  


"Why did you ask how old I am?"

  
  
  
  


"Because," Lilith turned his face toward hers, squinting at his face, and then looking into his eyes, "you look so much younger." She paused for a minute, and then returned looking into the depths of his blue makou eyes. "Did you love Aerith?"

  
  
  
  


"No," Cloud said curtly. "She was just a close friend."

  
  
  
  


"Did you love . . . Sephiroth?" Cloud looked away, and Lilith frowned. "He killed Aerith, didn't he?"

  
  
  
  


". . .Yes."

  
  
  
  


"Yes what?" Lilith turned his face toward hers again. He was holding back the sadness that he had in his heart.

  
  
  
  


"To both questions," Cloud said, finally looking back into her eyes. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Do you like me, Cloud?"

  
  
  
  


" . . .I don't know," Cloud said, getting lost in her eyes, then, " . . . yes." Lilith didn't know whether he did because she looked so much like Sephiroth, or if it was because of other reasons, but she leaned close anyway, kissing Cloud tenderly on the lips. He needed some comforting, and this was the kind that Vincent wouldn't be affording him. She felt Cloud stiffening, and she pulled away a little.

  
  
  
  


"What?" she asked, softly. Concern wrinkled her brows.

  
  
  
  


"I don't know how to kiss," Cloud said, flustered. He hadn't even kisses Zack when he had taken his virginity. He was too scared too. But Zack had been doing to kissing, anyway. Lilith smiled and kissed him again, this time very slowly. When she pulled away, Cloud leaned toward her and kissed back, his hands shaking as he ran them through Lilith's soft silver hair. A single tear fell down his face and into his shirt. When he broke away, Lilith smiled.

  
  
  
  


"See? It isn't that hard," she said removing a stray piece of hair from Cloud face and putting it behind his ear. He looked away, shyly, and she gently guided his face to her again. "Do you want to try something else?" she asked. Cloud's eyes widened, but he nodded slowly. Lilith took his hand, and placed it onto the zipper of her shirt.


	19. A Lesson In Love

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~******

The Author's note: Yes, it's another pointless chapter. Don't you just love this crappy story? Does anyone? It's an unloved little story. Just like Cloud. Actually, Cloud is loved. Oh well. The Magickal Yaoi Faerie is here to tell you that there's a lot of shounen ai in this chapter. None of it is fluff, though. Thank Bahamut. *roaring is heard, and the author sweat drops*****

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Chapter Nineteen_

  
  
  
  
  
  


When Cloud fell asleep, he saw green makou eyes in his dreams, silver hair tumbling down all around him, and _this_ is when he felt perfect bliss. Ghostly pale hands encircled him, and a low voice, beautiful and yet so ugly whispered things into his ears that he didn't know of, and that he didn't want to. Was that lighte the Lifestream? As quickly as he saw it, it faded away, and all he had to look at was glowing green makou eyes.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Tell me what you want to tell me, Cloud," the voice came, full of amusement. His hands came dangerously near Cloud's throat, and something cold and hard pressed against it. Cloud panicked, but found that it turned him on even more. He traced his fingers over the other man's larger hands, ungloved, and he smiled bitterly.

  
  
  
  


"I'm not afraid to die, Sephiroth," Cloud whispered hoarsely, inhibited by the sword's proximity. 

  
  
  
  


"Neither was I," Sephiroth countered, gruffly. The sword pressed harder, and Cloud felt his own blood trickle down into his chest. 

  
  
  
  


"Aerith told me you changed," Cloud said, frowning, trying to pry Sephiroth's hands off him. 

  
  
  
  


"She told me you changed as well. You were imagining me earlier tonight, weren't you? While Lilith tried to 'comfort' you?" Sephiroth's voice was like stony ice. It sent shivers up Cloud's spine. So did what he said. 

  
  
  
  


"Why did you want to die?" Cloud frowned even more, avoiding his questioning. 

  
  
  
  


"You know why, Cloud," Sephiroth breathed out, tossing the sword aside. It exploded in a white flame and Cloud closed his eyes from the blinding lighte, looking up quickly to catch a glimpse of Sephiroth face. He was smiling sadly. "Haven't you learned anything?"

  
  
  
  


"I just wanted to hear it from your own lips," Cloud fumbled for the right words, "I don't trust myself. Not after . . . what I did."

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Stop acting like a kid," Sephiroth snorted. "You're going to have to realize that you've grown up, sooner or later."

  
  
  
  


"You . . . really have changed, haven't you?" Cloud whispered, tracing his fingers on Sephiroth's lips. He stiffened a little, then leaned down to kiss Cloud, his long hair making feather light contact with Cloud's skin. When Sephiroth's head rose from Cloud's, he noticed the younger man's fool grin and arched an eyebrow. 

  
  
  
  


"I've wanted you to do that since I was fourteen," Cloud laughed nervously. Sephiroth sighed heartily. "What?"

  
  
  
  


"They all say that."

  
  
  
  


"Oh . . .well, who can blame them? You were beautiful, even when I thought that made you so ugly." 

  
  
  
  


"Those are the first words of wisdom you say to my face, Cloud Strife."

  
  
  
  


"Do you still think I'm a puppet?"

  
  
  
  


"In some ways," Sephiroth grinned. Cloud blinked. 

  
  
  
  


"In . . . which ways?"

  
  
  
  


"Don't worry. It made you an amusing toy," Sephiroth slapped Cloud's face lightly, _playfully._ Cloud was confused. 

  
  
  
  


"Sephiroth!"

  
  
  
  


"Yes, Cloud?"

  
  
  
  


"Stop playing with my mind!"

  
  
  
  


"You have to go soon, Cloud," Sephiroth's eyes dulled in color, and Cloud frowned, reaching out to touch him again. He felt Sephiroth's hand clamp around his wrist and push it back down. "Are you still ready to die?"

  
  
  
  


"Why can't I be with you?!" Cloud shouted.

  
  
  
  


"Because you belong on the Planet. It's not your time yet."

  
  
  
  


"They can fix up the Planet without me, can't they? Can't they?!!" Cloud shouted. Sephiroth held Cloud down, and wiped at the tears that threatened to roll down Cloud's cheeks. Cloud cried even more because Sephiroth was hurting his arms without even noticing he was. Even in death, he was stronger than Cloud would ever know. 

  
  
  
  


"Cloud . . . when I told you to give me the black materia, what did you do?" Noticing that Cloud was calming down now, he loosened his grip.

  
  
  
  


". . . . I . . . gave it to you."

  
  
  
  
  
  


"If I had told you to kill yourself with your buster sword, would you have done it?"

  
  
  
  


"That's not fair . . . you were a part of Jen--" Cloud was cut off by a hard kiss.

  
  
  
  


"Do it, Cloud. You could use a little more wisdom before you join me in the Lifestream."

  
  
  
  


"Will you visit me like this often?" Cloud asked, hugging Sephiroth tightly. The older man allowed him to, but it made him slightly uncomfortable at first.

  
  
  
  


"No. I'm sorry, Cloud, but the Lifestream only allows one visit per spirit."

  
  
  
  


"What about Aerith? She's visited me twice!"

  
  
  
  


"Well, Aerith's a special little case," Sephiroth chuckled, "because she's helped the Planet in many ways. She was the last Cetra. When she saw what kind of damage Holy would do, she used Lifestream to her advantage. Now . . . Cloud . . . you must go, and I must atone for my sins.

  
  
  
  


"You sound like Vincent," Cloud scowled. "I hate that."

  
  
  
  


"You could learn a thing or two from that man, on what true love is. Lucrecia went against the Lifestream, and manifested as an opaque spirit before Vincent."

  
  
  
  


"Are you telling me that you love me?" Cloud squinted at Sephiroth, still only able to make out his eyes.

  
  
  
  


"You still have a lot to learn," Sephiroth said, his voice fading. Cloud tried to reach out to him, but Lifestream rushed up to meet him, Sephiroth's illuminated image drowned by the ever growing lighte. When Cloud woke up, his retinas were burning, and he felt somewhat less lonely. Even though Sephiroth hadn't said it, he knew he would be looking over him. Cloud remembered the first time he had met Sephiroth on the Shinra truck. He had been haughty and withdrawn, but he did realize that Cloud had motion sickness from reading on the truck. "Rookie mistake," he had said after defeating the mutated Dragon on the road. He had never been so embarrassed or . . . delighted. After all, it _was _directed to him. Zack had laughed at him. He didn't know why then, but he knew now. Maybe Sephiroth was right . . . that he should act his own age.

Then he remembered Lilith. A look to his side revealed that Lilith was nuzzled into the crook of his arm. He remembered what they had done . . . and whom he had imagined, and he blushed hotly. It hadn't been all that hard, with Lilith taking the initiative. He blushed even more. He had imagined large calloused sword hands . . . instead of Lilith's smaller ones. Her face had grown more angular, her eyes harder, her mouth tight, longer, amused. When she had kissed him, it was harder, more passionate than tender. And then those hands had traveled down his body, bringing him infinite pleasure. He even imagined how he smelled as he buried his face in Lilith's hair. 

When he orgasmed, he looked into her eyes, seeing _his_. He felt sick. He quieted the urge to vomit again. He had been doing so much of that recently.

  
  
  
  


"Cloud?" Lilith whispered. He froze, and tears came to his eyes. 

  
  
  
  


"You moaned his name last night, when . . . we . . ." her voice trailed off. That affirmed his horror, and he let the tears stream.

  
  
  
  


"I'm so sorry, Lilith," Cloud sobbed.

  
  
  
  


"You moaned his name in your sleep, too," she stated, matter-of-factly.

  
  
  
  


"I'm . . . "

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Yes, I know. You're sorry. It's okay," Lilith sighed, "I knew you would . . . replace me . . . with him. He's always been . . . more important than I." Lilith got up and started walking out of the room they had gone to. It was funny. She thought that _she_ should feel like the one taken advantage of, but . . . spending that nighte with Cloud Strife had made her realize that she loved him, and he would never love her . . . only use her for how much she looked like her brother. Tears welled in her eyes, and Cloud grabbed her wrist. 

  
  
  
  


"Last nighte shouldn't have happened," Cloud said lowly. But then he kissed her tenderly, lovingly. She pushed him away.

  
  
  
  


"Don't fucking kiss me unless you mean it," she hissed. That had surprised him . . . and herself.

  
  
  
  


"Lilith . . . I didn't picture him that time. I really do like you . . . and I want to get to know you more . . ." Cloud kissed her again, and this time she relented, letting Cloud pull her against him. It was at that time that Vincent decided to come out of his slumber, and into the hall.

  
  



	20. Love Hurts, Love Scars

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~******

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Chapter Twenty_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Vincent was stunned, to say the least. His usually narrowed, and concentrated brooding face was full of life, displaying a look of some heartbreaking memory. Vincent stumbled back and gripped the side of the boat, retreating into the closet once more, his breath coming out in gasps. When he closed his eyes, he saw himself cradling Lucrecia in his arms. It was after they had first made love, and they had both professed their love to one another previously over dinner. Horror overtook him when she became rigid and limp, and her eyes were blank, open and seeing nothing but the hereafter. Vincent had cradled her body then too. Eventually, the anger overtook him.

What irony. Lucrecia had died giving birth to his childe. 

What a cruel fate. He wanted to feel anger toward the man that had first raped his love, his seed making her pregnant, demanding of her the life for science. Hojo's threats kept her silent, and she returned to Vincent, but . . . she was so much more different. Hojo's violation of her had made her cold and untrusting, and even though she trusted Vincent and loved him dearly, she even flinched to be touched by him.

  
  
  
  


_"Don't touch me," Lucrecia had said, shying away from Vincent's hands caressing her face, holding her near. It crushed him to see her like this. "I'm not pure . . . I let him do this to me."_

  
  
  
  


_"I don't understand, Lucrecia. Did he not violate you?" he held his hand out to cradle her face again, and she shied away yet again. She looked so frail in the sterile white room. She saw tears form in Vincent's eyes, and she looked away, closing her eyes tightly, as if wounded. _

  
  
  
  


_"At first . . . he did. But . . . the way he talked of Science . . ."_

  
  
  
  


_"Science?!" Vincent whispered hoarsely, out of surprise. "This man speaks lunacy, Lucrecia. Look what . . . he's done to you." The Turk's hand entwined with hers and she fought back tears._

  
  
  
  


_"Whatever was inside me . . . it isn't merely human. It ate my strength so much . . . it talked to me in ways I never knew one could talk."_

  
  
  
  


_"Lucrecia . . ." Her spout of what seemed like nonsense concerned Vincent. _

  
  
  
  


_____"Won't you make the hurting stop?" Her frail body was wracking with sobs. It was a miracle she had survived pregnancy. And she had let Hojo have the baby, knowing she would never be able to take care of a childe born out of wedlock. _

  
  
  
  


_"Shh," Vincent said, sitting next to her, and taking up his violin."You should sleep now." Beginning to play a tune of infinite sadness and an undying love, Vincent guided her into that uneasy slumber that he would know soon for decades . . ._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_***_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Are you ready for the cryostasis period?" Hojo asked. Vincent had been averse to suicide, so left his body for the Science department. He hadn't even blinked when he had heard that Hojo would be the one experimenting on him. He was so numb . . . so terribly numb. _

_He still felt Lucrecia's body in his arms. He still saw the nurse taking away the childe. He still remembered years later when he had gone through the functions of living . . . of taking care of Sephiroth and Lilith. He had been letting Hojo experiment on him for the years that he watched Sephiroth and Lilith grow up. Lilith clung to him, while Sephiroth was indifferent to everything and everyone, and he included. He told him things, however._

_ He wished he could just say something, but he never did. Hojo had . . . "advised" him not to. And finally, when Gast went away, Hojo seemed to push the experiments much more forward. Vincent was aware that Hojo didn't particularly care what happened to him, or if what he was doing benefitted science. In fact, when Hojo had told him that he would sleep for twenty-five years, he was sure that Hojo wanted him out of the way for something. Vincent had stared into his own eyes in the window of a Slum store for an hour this morning, thinking about Lucrecia, and the fact that the experimentations had made his eyes red. Hojo had ranted about something he said he liked to term the Chaos Theory. Vincent had listened half aware when Hojo had spoken of the changes that Vincent's body had been put through. He simply didn't care. All he wanted was for it to be painful. And it was, but not enough so that it drowned out his mental pain. In a way, the long slumber would give him peace. Or so he thought. His nightmares had been Hell since Lucrecia died. He thought that would end, so he somberly agreed to what Hojo had in store for him._

  
  
  
  


_" . . . Yes," was his one word reply. It was the first time he'd said something, anything, in days . . . and it would be the last thing he said._

  
  
  
  
  
  


" . . .Vincent?" his name was uttered cautiously. Vincent tried not to snap. He forced the tears from his eyes and regained his composure. He had gotten so good at doing that when he became a Turk. It came in handy more often then naught, Vincent had to realize. This made him sigh. He had not enjoyed the business of Snipering, but . . . he was good at it. And he had become the head Turk quite effortlessly. His comrades understood he was a man of few words, and they understood why. He had risen so high in the Turk field because he did what he had to do without objecting, and he formed no lasting relationships. Until Lucrecia, of course.

He had lived a lot longer than most Turks. He would live a lot longer than most humans . . . perhaps that was why he felt a certain affinity for Nanaki, the wise nonhuman companion that had originated from Cosmo Canyon, holding a great honor above his head with a great pride and respect. He was Seto's son. This would mean little to Vincent, if it was not for the story that came behind it. He wished he had a little pride. But . . . all that had vanished. All he felt was remorse and coldness. He was doomed with it. 

Again, the cautious voice. "Vincent, please come out? We want to talk to you." Sighing, Vincent obliged, creaking open the door. He noticed the tremor in his good arm. He was shaking from the effort not to show emotion, and he mentally cursed himself as Cloud drew him out by the arm and apologized profusely. Vincent absently wondered if Cloud got the wrong idea for him . . . running like that, but Cloud was more perceptive than he had thought. He heard a string of words tied together by the name Lucrecia and Vincent blinked his blood red eyes. They had become a dull burgundy, his anger drowning from his body, dissolving into the air with his trembling. Cloud sensed something was wrong. Lilith was standing in front of the door to the small room, staring blankly off into space, her hands at her sides, curled slightly. It reminded Vincent so much of himself, the way she was withdrawing into herself.

  
  
  
  


"Cloud . . . do you love her?" Vincent asked quietly.

  
  
  
  


"Vincent," Cloud whispered, silently, "I don't know . . . I . . . I'm so confused. This is all too much." Cloud shook his head and let his bangs obscure his eyes. He took in a great big gulp of air and felt his chest constrict with his uneasy mood. Sephiroth . . . Vincent . . . Lilith . . . the crisis for the Planet avoided . . . his life's aftermath screwing with him . . . Cloud almost wished he was dead. Almost. But Sephiroth had told him that he should collect some wisdom, and he wanted to, above all else. He sighed. 

  
  
  
  


"I understand, Cloud. Forgive me." And Vincent took Lilith into his embrace. He hated to see her looking forlorn, because he hated to see Lucrecia like that. And he knew he could do little to stop the hurting for Lucrecia, but for Lilith . . . he could at least try, couldn't he? He had been trying to help Cloud, after all, hadn't he? For the most part, Cloud seemed less withdrawn and moody, but there was a sadness there that dripped of the loss of love. That was what had drawn him to Cloud. Vincent was perceptive to emotion when he wanted to be. He didn't want to be wrapped up in what _he_ felt all of the time. It was what had made him so lonely as a childe, and as an adult. And he understood that in age, he was now an older man . . . a half century year old. His ageless beauty sometimes threw him, making him think that he was so much younger, so much more naive. But he had learned a few things, being the way he was. And now that he no longer shared a body with Chaos, or was a Turk, he felt less like a soulless Murderer, and more like someone to be paid attention to. In ways, that made him feel more guilty for what happened to Lucrecia, and so his curse would never be lifted. He understood this. One day, Vincent prayed that when he had seen enough, that he could be able to bring himself to taking his own life. Without something vital to live on, he was almost sure he would live no more. 

  
  
  
  


"Vincent, I still feel like a childe," Lilith said.

  
  
  
  


"You are a childe," Vincent laughed, the sound still seeming alien to him. Humor had always been so out of reach for him. He had no sense for it for the longest time.

  
  
  
  


"Hey, guys! It's about ten minutes 'til we arrive at North Corel," the heavyset man who had been steering the boat shouted. He had stomped a heavy boot onto the first step to the lower level of the boat for attention. "Get all your shit together and then I can find a suitable place to dock." With that, his puffy bloated face was removed from the staircase, and Lilith was the first to retreat into the room, grabbing her things. Cloud took his bag next, slinging it over his shoulder, taking Vincent's as well, chucking it to him. Vincent caught it and attached it to his waist. It wasn't that big. It was a pouch really. There were little things Vincent carried with him. His gun was strapped to arms in its holster, visible for a threat. Normally, he'd have his cloak concealing it, but these were quite hectic times. He realized that especially when he saw the condition in which North Corel was in. 


	21. North Corel: Vincent's Better Mood

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Author's Note: It's 5 o' clock in the morning . . . I have not been asleep, and I'm hunnngry. Here's another chapter sort of in Vincent's eyes.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~******

  
  


_Chapter Twenty-one_

  
  
  
  
  
  


"What you guys need, is a damn good hardass drink, ya know?" Cid laughed. Looking over Vincent's rigid standing position, Cid laughed insanely, "And Vinny needs a good hard long fuck to make up for his slumber!" Cloud's eyes widened at that, and he immediately jumped forward to knock the drunken Highwind upside the head. Vincent, used to Cid's crude and insensitive language, did little else but blink. Behind the pilot, Barret was laughing so hard that he was winded. Vincent hadn't thought of that kind of pleasure since he had awoken. He had forgotten how it felt, in fact. Lilith hadn't needed to explain herself in such elaboration to the two men, since they were piss drunk, and in a cheerful mood. Vincent had stayed there until Cloud waved him back and told him to spend time with his daughter.

  
  
  
  


"Disgusting, isn't it?" Vincent said as he sat across from Lilith on a crate inside the large tent. Lilith arched one fine brow and laughed, her shoulders shaking with the effort. 

  
  
  
  


"I thought Hojo was crude!" Lilith said through her mirth. He thought this laugh truly Sephiroth-like, especially since he had asked a rhetoric, and inane question. With Sephiroth, it was as if you had just asked him what two oranges plus two apples equaled. That had always slightly intimidated Vincent, even when Sephiroth was very little. But with Lilith, it rather intrigued him. And she was right about Hojo being crude, but if he was talkative enough to debate, Vincent would have to disagree. The very thought of Hojo made him angry. It calmed him down considerably to know that he had been the one to shoot his Jenova-fevered face down. He needed to be dragged away from him, in fact. Vincent had stared down at his dead face and kept shooting until he had no bullets, and Hojo's brain matter was spread across the ground and Vincent's gold-tipped shoes. "Coward," he remembered he had hissed. Cloud had scolded him for the letting his anger get the better of him, while Tifa stared in absolute horror. "I wonder what Cloud's going to do?"

  
  
  
  


"Probably further encourage them. The boy's got a knack for not being able to deal with Cid Highwind, and Barret Wallace has never really liked him. Leadership issues, I suppose. They were a little peeved that the shortest, most unstable, and most frail-looking of the male humans was picked as their leader when I awoke from my slumber and reluctantly joined them."

  
  
  
  


"Nibelheim," was all that Lilith said.

  
  
  
  


"Yes. You were born there. Lucrecia was buried there."

  
  
  
  


"Hometown," Lilith whispered. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


" . . . Yes. In a way, it is a home, isn't it?"

  
  
  
  


"I had assumed I was born on the plate," Lilith responded.

  
  
  
  


"I'm sorry I never told you about any of this."

  
  
  
  


"You don't need to keep apologizing," Lilith sighed. Vincent blinked slowly. He hadn't even noticed that he had been doing a lot of apologizing. He mentally scolded himself. It was why he usually kept quiet. "I've never . . . seen Nibelheim. At least, not that I remember. I wasn't in SOLDIER, like Sephiroth," Lilith said a little bitterly. " When I was old enough to enter, I requested to go to President Shinra, and I was denied that right. He told me that I had my place in Shinra."

  
  
  
  


"How did you . . . end up in the slums?" Vincent asked curiously.

  
  
  
  


"I escaped," Lilith responded, a sly smile twisting her thin lips. "I think I got that from you."

  
  
  
  


"Perhaps. A sniper relies on stealth and accuracy."

  
  
  
  


"Would you take me to Nibelheim one day, Vin--Father?" Lilith said quickly. Vincent's eyes widened. "Are you . . . uncomfortable with me calling me that?"

  
  
  
  


"I. . .don't know. Should it make me uncomfortable? And yes, I'll take you there one day. Cloud is from there himself." Vincent gave a rare smile, undeniably happy that she had accepted him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Good," Lilith said smugly.

  
  
  
  


"Huh," Vincent muttered unintelligibly as he looked over at Barret, Cloud, and Cid engaged in a conversation. 

  
  
  
  


"Hey! Come here, guys!" Cloud called to the two Snipers. Lilith stood and looked back at Vincent, who gave her a look expectantly. 

  
  
  
  


"Come on. Could it hurt that much?"

  
  
  
  


" . . . Yes," Vincent said, deadpan. Lilith laughed, surprisingly with mirth. 

  
  
  
  


"Are you sure?" she chided.

  
  
  
  


"Quite." The reply was still deadpan. Lilith laughed more. It lit her face up nicely, Vincent noted. She looked so much like Lucrecia when she laughed. Were these feelings of pride? Yes, they were. Vincent found himself smiling again. 

  
  
  
  


"Oh, come on," Lilith held out a long-fingered hand. Vincent took it and stood, and they walked over to the table that the three were sitting at.

  
  
  
  


"North Corel's been a wreck since Holy and Meteor," Barret stated simply. "The people here were reluctant to let us in, but they were obliged to let us stay, since they heard about our heroics."

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Yes. I did notice the awe in their eyes as we passed," Vincent said. Cloud nodded gravely. The boy didn't take to such awe well, he noticed. He dully noted that Sephiroth was his childehood idol and was amused, to say the least. How long would Cloud be known as "The Man Who Had Killed the Greatest Soldier That Ever Lived"? Vincent's lips curled upward slightly.

  
  
  
  


"Hey, Vince, want anything to drink? Seriously, sorry for before." The sincerity in which Cid spoke piqued Vincent's curiosity. But he did not like nicknames. He let it alone, though, and shrugged, forcing himself to be casual. In a way, Cid was caring. In his own way, of course, because what he's said earlier_ was _very crude. Even though Cid was rather insensitive to everyone, he was a little bit more sensitive to Vincent, which confused him a little. Why would Cid care about him? _Because he's your friend_, Vincent scolded himself. Just as Vincent was about to accept the offer (alcohol sounded curiously good right about now), the tent's cover shifted and a woman stepped in. She was short and mousy, with dark brown hair pulled into a single ponytail. Her face was very plain, and her large blue eyes were behind thick black glasses.

  
  
  
  


"Oh, it looks like we have some company," she said in a high tone, excitedly. Cid hit the table with the flat of his palm, suddenly not too interested in Vincent.

  
  
  
  


"Damn straight, Shera! Get this gentleman something alcoholic to drink," he shot, waving his hand in Vincent's direction. Vincent grimaced as the woman jumped.

  
  
  
  


"That won't be necessary, Cid," Vincent's voice snapped in a stone cold tone. Suddenly the thought of alcohol made his stomach turn. Cid shot Vincent a look, but let it alone, only after hitting the table and again and uttering "shit" in a gruff, gravelly voice.

  
  
  
  


  
  



	22. Rebirth

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz

Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Author's Note: Hi. This is the Author here (duh) telling you that if you are not open to theories about Jenova, you shouldn't go on reading beyond this point. In this chapter, there is implied Sephiroth/Jenova action, in turn implied Jenova/Sephiroth/Clone action, in turn implied Jenova/Sephiroth/Cloud/Clone action. It's very confusing, I'm telling you that right now. 

There is sexual tension in this chapter (shounen ai) between Sephiroth and Cloud and Sephiroth and Zack. There is disturbing imagery, and mention of Kabbalah. If you don't know what Sephiroth's name means, or where Squaresoft got it from, you're not only a loser, but you deserve not to call yourself a fan. If you do not know where Lilith's name originates from, you should read a little bit more into the whole Creation of the Planet deal, and the texts written on the subject. If you seizure as a result of this chapter, it's entirely your fault. If you think my theory on Jenova is crap, that's your opinion. I could care less.

It's my belief that Jenova's sentience is dependant upon her host. Her host happened to be Sephiroth, and therefore, must play a serious role in my whole Creation of the World take off on this fic. If you don't know what I'm talking about already, discontinue reading. 

  
  
  
  


****_Chapter Twenty-two_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Shera was like a mess of jittery nerves. She was apologizing profusely for everything, even if she hadn't done anything. Vincent rather pitied the woman. She insisted that she would make everyone tea. Vincent didn't even like tea, but he found himself sipping at it absently anyway, thanking the woman and patting her hand gently. Lilith seemed engrossed with her tea, staring into it as if it was Lifestream; a primeval proverbial soup. 

Cloud was making coffee. Vincent was glad. The only one out of them that seemed to enjoy the tea was Cid, who was sipping it with care and measure. Barret was up and helping Cloud, leaving his tea behind in a very _subtle _gesture, Vincent supposed. Vincent watched as Shera took a seat beside Cid. He reached over and gave her a pat on the back. 

  
  
  
  


"Fuckin' best tea," Cid grunted into the mug. Cloud poignantly laughed at Cid. Vincent and Lilith blinked in turns. Cid certainly didn't seem like the type of man who . . . loved tea. 

  
  
  
  


"Oh! You'll probably want something to go along with that tea," Shera said, suddenly snapping up to get a poundcake she had left by the tent's roll-up door. Cloud took a seat, but not before he stared intently at Lilith for a few seconds. He set a mug in front of Vincent and then in front of Barret .The large man sat down gingerly, as his bulk would be hard on the very fragile beaten up chairs, and took the mug, waving his thanks to the blonde boy, who bounced back over to the coffee pot, balancing first on his heel, and then on his toes inside his encrusted plain boots. He was still eyeing Lilith carefully. She was still looking into the tea. Vincent decided to ignore it and took a sip of the coffee, reaching over to take some poundcake onto a plate which was set before him by Shera. He was surprisingly hungry, and soon it was gone. Cloud came bouncing over again and set two mugs down again, this time for himself, and he offered the other to Lilith, who shook her head and finally sipped her tea.

  
  
  
  


"Have you ever noticed something funny about my name and Sephiroth's?" Lilith asked Vincent. Cloud was sitting down slowly, hurt that she wasn't speaking to him about Sephiroth. Now that she mentioned it, though, he'd never known what Sephiroth's name meant. His mother had simply shrugged and said she liked clouds, that they were like hope. They brought life-giving rain, she had said. Cloud wondered why she didn't just as well name him Rain. It was just as ridiculous. But the name Sephiroth? It was so strange that it must mean something, right? And _Hojo_ had named him. No doubt it was something very pretentious. Sephiroth was a lot of things, but pretentious he wasn't, even though he could have been, with how loved he was. Cloud shook his head, remembering all of the sacrifices he had made because he had no choice but to be someone different from everyone else. How like a childe Sephiroth was, when Cloud overheard him yelling at Zack. 

  
  
  
  


_A flash of fear overtook him, and he looked down at the hand that gripped his Masamune. It was a sword only he could wield. In all of SOLDIER, only he could wield the ceremonial blade. Those that came before him, and those before them, had only held the blade in parties hosted in their honor. And Sephiroth wielded Masamune in battle, hefting it and swinging it outward in a two-handed arc with grace. Was he different? No, he knew he was different from them._

  
  
  
  


_"Am I human?" Sephiroth whispered, his voice wavering. "Am I like these monsters?!" His hand grasped the hilt of Masamune, one of the many reminders that he was different. "Ever since I was little, I knew I was different . . . but not like this . . . Not like this!!!" Zack stumbled back. Every time Sephiroth's blade hit the tanks that held those . . . things, there was a blinding flash of light as metal hit metal. Even the Masamune couldn't open the metal pod tanks. Sephiroth was shaking. He couldn't control himself for once in his life. Something big was coming. _

  
  


_" . . . Seph? Seph, stop it."_

  
  
  
  


_"Don't call me that!" Sephiroth whirled on Zack. He looked as if he was going to use his sword, but was interrupted by the sound of the fluid inside the tank decompressing and disappearing into the air as sickly green steam. Makou. Sephiroth's lips curled in disgust at the keening wail of the monster._

  
  
  
  
  
  


___***_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Like this, Zack?" Cloud asked as he hefted the heavy buster sword Zack had allowed him to get a feel for. Zack shook his head, and as he was about to show the recruit the correct way to hold it, a shadowy figure entered the weapon storage room._

  
  
  
  


_"What poor boy are you torturing today, Zachary?" came a low smooth voice behind Cloud. Cloud remembered it was an utterly controlled tone, smooth, unyielding, and throaty. It was slightly brooding. Cloud could tell he was an older man, perhaps an officer. He wasn't too much older than Zack though. Maybe by a couple of years. The voice wasn't gruff, like some of the officers that took care of the recruits. In fact, there was somewhat of a womanly quality to it. Cloud couldn't mistake it for a woman's however, as it was . . . thick, sort of lazy, but there was a hint at great energy. Curious, Cloud turned around to see whose voice he had been examining, and his breath caught in his throat. He nearly dropped the weapon he had been holding._

  
  
  
  


_"Oh, right. I forgot that the recruits go gaga over you," Zack snickered at Cloud's reaction. Cloud shot a look at Zack and attempted to look nonchalant. The man came closer, stepping into the light that shone from outside. He wore his signature military uniform._

  
  
  
  


_"I'm off duty right now, Zachary. I came to look for you. You're teaching some B-level recruits how to use Green Materia at fifteen-hundred hours." Again, the lazy tone. It was also rather cold, unemotional. Cloud found it slightly feral, like the purring of a large cat. Sephiroth's half-slitted, almond shaped Makou green eyes reminded Cloud of a cat's as well. Seeing his long silver hair up-close made Cloud want to touch it . . . to run his hands through it. It looked curiously feathery soft._

  
  
  
  


_"Found me," Zack winced as if hurt. "How do you manage to do that?" Sephiroth raised a brow, nodding his head and laughing softly._

  
  


_"Ah, I see. Your own 'methods'?"_

  
  
  
  


_"No, nothing of that sort. I just follow the bigmouthed comments. So, who is this?" Sephiroth asked, turning his attention to Cloud. In the sunlight, Sephiroth looked like an Angel, which wasn't such a stretch. He was beautiful, Cloud told himself. He had thought that that word would never describe a man, but . . . Sephiroth was . . . different. He wasn't merely a man. He was the greatest SOLDIER, the pride and joy of Shinra. And how such a man could look like that was beyond Cloud's comprehension. But he had known what Sephiroth looked like from articles he'd posted on his bulletin board, Cloud reminded himself. He also dully noted that beauty up-close was always different._

  
  
  
  


_"That," Zack started with a wink at the blonde-haired boy, "is your biggest fan, even though he doesn't like to admit it. His name's Cloud Strife."_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Intriguing," Sephiroth said, and bowed his head to him. Cloud blinked. Huh? Zack made a slit throat gesture with his hands and Cloud bowed back, trying to show the man respect with grace, but he almost fell, and instead stumbled. He didn't know which one was worse. Cloud hoped his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. It certainly wouldn't do to have Sephiroth know that he was affecting Cloud in this way. He wanted to give a good impression. Cloud swallowed hard when he noticed his palm was sweaty. Sephiroth took his hand anyway, and he shook it briefly. "I suppose bowing isn't your greeting custom? Where do you come from, Strife,Cloud?" The sound of his name on Sephiroth's lips was like euphoria. Cloud gulped._

  
  
  
  


_"N-N-Nibelheim, sir."_

  
  
  
  


_"Ah. I was near there just last week. There was an inspection of the North Corel reactor."_

  
  
  
  


_"I-I know," Cloud said feebly._

  
  
  
  


_"Why don't you teach Cloud here how to _really _handle a sword?" Zack asked the tall man with silver hair. Cloud shot Zack a look. Zack was aware of how that question sounded. He grinned coyly. Cloud grumbled slightly. _Great, Zack's going to let me make a fool of myself in front of the guy I came here to be like_, Cloud thought absently. Joining SOLDIER didn't seem like a really good idea yet again. Zack was really going to be on his shit list._

  
  


_"I was just going to get something to eat, but I suppose I can stay here for a bit."_

  
  
  
  


_"As if you've never skipped meals," Zack laughed. Sephiroth ignored it. He was looking at the buster sword in Cloud's hands._

  
  
  
  


_"I think you should start with something more fitted to you, Cloud. A Zweihandler is for show offs like Zachary." Zack was going to comment about how Sephiroth was the only man on the Planet wielding that Masamune, and the only one in history that ever could, but he let that slide. Maybe he would point that out later. But then, with Sephiroth, there was little of a chance at later. He was almost never in a mood that wasn't foul. He was . . . extraordinarily upbeat today, as his moods went, which made sense because he was off duty. He wondered if he would spend that time with Cloud. It certainly seemed like he was attracted to Cloud in many more ways than one. He had caught him staring at Cloud's hair, eyebrow arched. Eh, Zack didn't get Cloud's hair either._

_Sephiroth was busy looking at the rows of weapons. When he was done, he drew one off a shelf and walked over to Cloud._

  
  
  
  


_"What's that?" Cloud asked._

  
  
  
  


_"Long sword, about . . . twenty-five inches long, 3 inches thick. It has a fish pommel hilt," Sephiroth responded mechanically. "Here." The sword was extended to Cloud delicately, who took it in his hands questioningly. He didn't know what to do with it. Sephiroth leaned slightly over Cloud and corrected his hands on the hilt, then started to move his hands slightly, so that his elbows were bent. Cloud's eyes widened as he slowly realized Sephiroth's hands were on his, this time keeping contact. His silver hair was nearly draped over his shoulder, and he could smell Sephiroth's clean yet spicy cinnamon scent. Cloud's eyes closed, then reopened with a snap as Sephiroth's hand went between his legs to push one of his feet forward. This however caused Cloud to squeak awkwardly, as he didn't know Sephiroth was going to touch him . . . there. _Relax_, he told himself, _he didn't mean it that way. _Zack chuckled and saluted to Sephiroth._

  
  
  
  


_"I think I'll leave you to_ handle_ Cloud," Zack winked at the silver-haired man. Cloud shot Zack another look. Sephiroth still ignored Zack, waving him off curtly. Zack left shortly after, and panic rose in Cloud's throat. He felt his heart beat in his ears. He hoped he would die right about now. Sephiroth's arm left Cloud's legs, and he stood in front of him now, looking over his position._

  
  
  
  


_"How does your grip feel?" Sephiroth asked. Cloud blinked, and then realized that the sword was in his hands. He kept forgetting so many things. Sephiroth was unnerving him to no end. "There's no need to be nervous." Cloud took in a breath that seemed to stab his lungs, and with a voice that came somewhere deep inside himself, Cloud answered._

  
  
  
  


_"It feels . . . natural."_

  
  
  
  


_"Ah, good. So I was right in my calculations."_

  
  
  
  


_"Uhm . . . " Cloud felt foolish just standing there in the position Sephiroth had put him in, and his legs were starting to cramp up. _

  
  
  
  


_"You can right yourself now, Cloud." Sephiroth was staring at Cloud intently, as if he intrigued him. Cloud did so, holding out the sword for Sephiroth to take. It had been heavy, and was making his wrist hurt, but Sephiroth's skillfully hardened sword hands found them to be a great deal lighter than the Masamune, as he did with all swords. He placed it back on the rack and looked back at Cloud, who was standing there, control the only thing he had that was making him still. If he wasn't shouting at himself to stay still, Sephiroth noted, he'd be fidgeting uncomfortably. _

_A slight smile formed on Sephiroth's lips in spite of himself. Cloud was unusually short for a boy his age, and agonizing skinny, but there was something about him that set him off from the recruits he'd seen already, which reminded him. "President Shinra has informed me that I am in charge of looking over the recruits, to see if they're right for SOLDIER," Sephiroth said. He paused, to see if Cloud would say anything. He didn't. "There is a two week period in which we test all of the recruits to see if they will survive the Makou treatment that comes along with being a third class SOLDIER. If we believe that that recruit does not seem like they can handle the Makou treatment, they are dropped from SOLDIER."_

  
  
  
  


_"Do you think I can make it?!" Cloud suddenly said, full of hope. He immediately clamped his hands over his mouth when he realized what he'd said. Sephiroth raised a silver brow. He was staring at Cloud again. The boy slid his startlingly azure eyes toward Sephiroth, daring to look. But the man was unreadable. He looked into the Makou infused eyes and felt his chest tighten. So cold. But there was . . . something behind there. Sephiroth almost seemed sad. And then he looked up at the ceiling._

  
  
  
  


_"I don't know. I'm going to go now. I have paper work." Cloud was sure he heard him say he was off duty. It would be like that from then on. Sephiroth's wall of control would always clamp down upon Cloud just when he had almost figured it out. It annoyed Cloud to no end. But it was what made Sephiroth real for Cloud. It was what made him a person, instead of an icon. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


Cloud finally snapped out of his reverie to hear Lilith speaking to Vincent. Shera and Cid were oddly quiet, and Barret was listening to the conversation that the two Snipers were sharing, every now and then speaking out of confusion. 

  
  
  
  


" . . . Sephiroth being the singular term for one of these changes," Cloud heard the sentence in the middle of it, confused as Lilith dragged on in a monotonic voice. " Hojo decided to name him after the Sephirothic system, seeing as how Sephiroth was the Alpha specimen of the Jenova Project, in which he was given an unusual amount of Jenova cells_, forced _to reply to the treatment he was being given. It made him stronger than Hojo could ever imagine. He was able to mend broken bones in days. He broke his ribs repeatedly. Sephiroth soon never needed bandages. 

But there was something Hojo was hiding from Sephiroth. He started to hear things, see things from the past, present, and future, and soon understood that the time continuum allowed each to carry themselves all at one time and plane. Whatever happened in the past effects the present, and so on affects the future. Psychics can only know the future through things that connect them with their clients, friends, and family . . . but with Sephiroth, it connected him totally and completely with Jenova, and in turn, completely with Lifestream. But, being as how he was a man, inhibited by the shell of being so, Jenova encouraged something called Rebirth. He spoke of it at the North Crater, where he gathered his clones.

"I, being the Alpha clone, and the third specimen of Sephiroth's treatment, was drawn to Jenova as well, but since I was like Sephiroth, the pull was that much greater. I found myself going insane with images, with words that came with his voice, and I knew totally and completely what my brother craved and strove for and understand it to the core so much, yet knowing his confusion, I became him in a way that none of his clones would. Jenova accepted me as her childe, as she accepted Sephiroth as such, and we rivaled for her affection, as did the other clones. But Jenova was nothing human. She had a sentience that startled me, knowing Sephiroth's information that he found in the Shinra Library in Nibelheim. The way she communicated was through pictures, and her voice was through Sephiroth, whom she played like her puppet. 

"I started to notice odd things. In his slumber, Sephiroth was curled tightly against Jenova's ever-energy utilizing body. She was morphing, attaching herself to Sephiroth in ways that reminded me of cell conjugation and mitosis, and Sephiroth's eyes, closed tightly, almost immediately darted back and forth under their closed lids in REM. Something big was coming. Something I felt with the jarring in my bones. Lifestream was so near. The euphoria was heady. Sometimes Sephiroth would stiffen, his eyes widening as Jenova slithered her tentacle "arms" toward him, and he would experience something far past pleasure as images drove into his skull, his pupils reduced to almost nothing. In turn, the clones felt this pleasure. It made us even more drawn to Jenova. She was drugging our minds. 

"Jenova was neither she nor he, however. Jenova was a purely asexual creature that could take on forms by becoming part of them. And she was becoming part of Sephiroth. So she was really a he toward the end. I witnessed his Half-mutated form near the end of his life. He was really far gone. He was Jenova. Jenova was him. There really was no way to discern where the two were separate.

"Of course, Hojo never knew that Jenova would ever be this strong. Or that Sephiroth would ever react that way to Jenova. But he drove him to it. I'm sure that if that man had been alive to understand it as fully as I do now, he'd think on the irony of Sephiroth's name. What a true conundrum Sephiroth ended up being. He ended up changing the fate of the Planet, getting rid of the Shinra, bringing back ultimate peace, even though his intentions were not selfless.

"Rebirth was the purpose of Reunion. Reunion was merely the first step after Jenova had total control over Sephiroth. The reason why Reunion was held in North Crater was that it was near the largest gathering of Lifestream, whereupon, if Meteor struck it, all lives would return to Lifestream, and be "reborn" so to speak in the Promised Land, giving a new existence to life, to the universe. Sephiroth almost succeeded too. If it had not been for Cloud . . . and everyone else, you would all be children of Jenova." There was an uncomfortable silence that Lilith just noticed as her voice died, her need to explain this all rushing out when she saw the pale faces. But Cloud . . . Cloud seemed to understand. His face was calm, reserved. Why? And then she remembered feeling what Sephiroth felt for Cloud in the North Crater. It was why she felt she was taking advantage of him. She knew why he was envisioning Sephiroth when they made love. It was something a lot more complex then Cloud's feelings for Sephiroth. Lilith paled. Could it be possible that there were still traces of Jenova? 

  
  
  
  


_Sephiroth's heartbeat was in her ears, as well as the keening sound of Jenova's beams of control. Ever craving control, her defenses were lowered as she drove images into Sephiroth's mind, in turn to all of the clones. They were images of Cloud, and Sephiroth taking him. The heartbeat in her ears steadily got faster until Sephiroth was beyond anything coherent. The only thing in her mind was him manipulating Cloud, his voice in her head was broken, fragmented thoughts pertaining to desire and despair. Jenova would keep him going like that, manipulating him then with images of Cloud turning on him, of laughing at him, of using him for his own gain, and Sephiroth pleasure turned toward anger, in turn filling the clones with anger. All together . . . they were Jenova, and Jenova was they . . . and they all wanted Rebirth. Jenova promised perpetual pleasure, only giving them glimpses into human pleasure through Sephiroth, and then giving them glimpses into inhumanly pleasure through the plans they arranged. _

  
  
  
  


"God damn, woman," Barret shook his head, "you sound almost as crazy as that damned fool, and we had to kill him for his crazy fool talk." 

  
  
  
  


"I feared you would not understand," Lilith sighed. Cid was pouring himself another mug of tea, his hand curiously shaking.

  
  
  
  


"This Sephirothic system leads our lives? Records our history, and changes it?" Cid asked, crinkling a brow. Shera stared at Cid, as if expecting something to erupt.

  
  
  
  


"Yes. And there must be something wrong. There has to be a reason why I was the only clone near the North Crater that didn't die with the touch of Holy. There has to be something more."

  
  
  
  


"Are you saying that Lifestream missed something?" Vincent whispered. Lilith's eyes darted back and forth, seeing far past her hands. She breathed heavily. 

  
  
  
  


"My name," Lilith began. "It's so strange."

  
  
  
  


"There are a lot of women named Lilith," Barret pointed out. He didn't understand what Lilith was searching for. Salty tears formed at her eyes and she stood shakily, drawing in shallow breaths of air. Images of Hojo hovering over. Images of Hojo talking to President Shinra when he thought she wasn't there. Images of Sephiroth in the Infirmary with Makou Poisoning. Images of Professor Gast. Images of Vincent climbing from his coffin after twenty-odd years. Images of Cloud being disillusioned. Lilith felt her chest constrict.

  
  
  
  


"Hojo was going to name Sephiroth Adam. His assistant was named Eve. He was screwing her. When he tired of her, he took Lucrecia from Vincent, because he had always hated the TURK hanging around his Laboratory. Lucrecia was his assistant. Hojo was pumping himself full of Jenova cells. He would never react to Jenova like me and Sephiroth, because he was so far into the stages of life when he started experimenting on himself. But he was doing that very shortly after he and Gast found Jenova in the geological stratum. He had been very curious as to what the effects of Jenova were on a young life, so his ulterior motives were to bring a male childe into this world and treat it as a SOLDIER, and then as a Jenova recipient. 

"The reason why he did not name Sephiroth Adam is because he felt faint premonitions from his Jenova fevered mind. Hojo was very interested in Kabbalah, the Jewish order of things. He took to studying it intensely, in particular the Sephirothic system. He had such a feeling about Lucrecia's childe that she named it Sephiroth. He only named me Lilith because he knew, somewhere, in the recesses of his mind, that I would interfere in some way. So he bitterly called me Lilith. God's hated creation. The sinful woman. The one that rivaled Adam and God. But Adam was stupid. Sephiroth was the uprising of a new Millennia. Sephiroth was what was supposed to beat me into submission. Sephiroth was supposed to be a god." Lilith was quaking. She was enraged. Revelation hit her like a strike to her sternum. She was so tired . . . so terribly tired. Her chin sagged against her chest. Again, there was eerie silence as she passed out, tumbling like a broken rag doll to the floor.


	23. Who Am I?

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz, Jenova's Puppet Strings

E-mail Address: [][1]Lildeharou@aol.com (Send all questions, comments, praises flames, etc. here)

AIM screenname: SentientOrchids (If you wish to talk to the author, she will be happy to respond)

  
  


Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Author's Note: This might be my last chapter until at least August twenty-ninth. Why, pray tell? It's because I have to go and take a regent on the sixteenth, so I have to study. And I then have to go Florida, where old folks go to die, and where my folks take me to destroy my perfect milky whiteness. DAMN THEM! Anyway, for a change, this chapter is in the head of Sephiroth. 

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_Chapter Twenty-three_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_It's raining hard on this crutial day of battle with the Wutain forces. The battalion, expectantly, is silent. The dawn will break in roughly thirty minutes. That is when I will lead them to Shinra's victory. I cannot think about the costs. I cannot think about losing this battle, or the young lives that have been taken at the end of my blade, and by the guns of my troops. There are many of the battalion that have been killed. I don't see faces any longer . . . I don't see lives thrown in the balance. I see my duty. Nothing else. Shinra tells me what's expected of me . . . and I comply. All I've ever known was Shinra. _

_I try to cleanse myself of all thoughts as I sit inside a trench I've dug with my troops, polishing Masamune, but all I can think about is: how many lives have I taken with this blade I cherish so? Masamune is my only friend. My only companion. Masamune has felt my strikes, my oponents, and aided in their demises. _A sentinel has but one friend_, I find myself thinking bitterly, _his weapon_. That is how it's fated to be. My life is lonely, but it's better to have no attachments. _

  
  
  
  


_"General?" Comes a cock-sure voice from behind me. It's my second-in-command, I dully note. I remain quiet. I had heard his approach, his rushed breath. It's a whisper, but I can still attest the emotion. Pride. He's excited. I'm almost inclined to scoff. I do not turn around. I don't want to see his face; his eyes. I become aware of how I list things in my head. So monotonic . . . so cold . Even as I speak to myself, I can never seem to succumb fully to what I am feeling. But I am not told to feel, I tell myself. I am an asset. Isn't that always what I've been? "General . . . the troops are ready." I finish polishing Masamune, and I walk past him, toward where these young prospects gather. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Then let us go in early. It makes no difference, anyway. They're completely vulnerable to our attack."_

  
  
  
  


_"It was amazing how you led us into battle last time, sir, if you don't mind my saying.". I nodded, but waved him back. Praise did little to soothe my unrest. The events as follows are not as detailed in my memory. My attempts at numbing myself succeeded considerably, and I concentrated wholly on the task at hand. The first wave SOLDIERs came first, sleep spells at their disposals, amongst other ailments that could be induced to subdue an enemy. By the second wave, I began to notice a trend in the fighting techniques of my battalion. The Wutains had little materia at their disposal. The battalion knew this through their careful inspection of Wutai's resources._

  
  
  
  


_"Why aren't they using magick? They're going to get themselves killed!" I watched, the anger building in my chest, as one of the younger SOLDIERs from the first wave sprang upon a Wutain ninja, his sword swinging wildly, ripping into the flesh with the bite of steel with a force that sent the body sprawling backward. The SOLDIER stood gasping for precious seconds, and I saw the utter blankness in his eyes . . . the way in which he fought made me grimace. He was slaughtered instantly from behind. "Berserkers . . ."_

  
  
  
  


_"Sir?"His voice was so distant now._

  
  
  
  


_"Who warranted this?" I found myself seething.My second-in-command said nothing, and I turned to face him, finally coaxing his name from my mind. Aiden Maelstrom. What a fitting surname. "Maelstrom," I said, my tone fighting to remain calm, "Do you understand that I can court-martial you if you withhold information from me?"_

  
  
  
  


_"President Shinra himself, _General_," Maelstrom returned, his Makou eyes meeting mine. They wavered under my icy stare, and I ordered the last waves ahead, keeping back those who held cannons of Makou. _

  
  
  
  


_"I trust that you won't further disappoint me, Lieutenant," I told Maelstrom, gesturing towards theSOLDIERs in the trench. "Tell them to aim appropriately, according to their _orders_." I leapt from the trench, casting a lightning spell at a group of Wutain soldiers in the distance as they tried to retreat back into their tents. I stalked into their makeshift barracks. Having surveyed the area, their General was nowhere in sight. The Wutains were falling easily, I observed, even though the Berserker turned SOLDIERs were susceptible to attacks in their careless state of raw anger. _

_I searched the tents, pulling each one open and peering around. Although the sun was rising, it was still dark, and my eyes shifted, picking up heat patterns, dropping my formal peripheral vision. I couldn't remember a time when I couldn't do this. Light had always hurt my eyes, but after becoming a member of SOLDIER, I had to get used to the pain that I associated with the giant star. But pain had always been easily pushed aside for me; as easily as I tossed back these tent covers. _

_Inside, many holy items lay. Beads of all sorts, shapes, and sizes rested upon large paintings of Wutai's god, Kjata, his disciples 'round him. This was beginning to become irritating. And then I spotted a more elaborate tent. Instinctively, my lips drew back in a snarl. It was typical. These Wutains were foolish lots. I held myself open for different possibilities, but doing this for so long, I could almost know what was going to happen. _

_Tearing Masamune through the cloth of the tent, I stepped inside, fully prepared for an attack of sorts. But inside, there was darkness. The faint smell of tobacco and sex hung in the air like a cheap perfume, and a candle, recently blown out, drifted smoke around the air. Someone was here, obviously not doing a good job of hiding their presence. I heard a noise from behind me, rather close, so I turned sharply, thrusting Masamune forward on impulse. My eyes then made contact with a dark-eyed kimono-clad woman as my blade tore into her belly. She dropped her weapon, clutching uselessly at the blade that had punctured through her. I cursed myself for being so sure, and wrenched the blade out, hearing her choke on the blood and bile that rose in her mouth before she fell backward, her eyes clouded as she let out a last breath. And then they dulled from their widened state. Cadaver eyes never ceased to be something that made me uneasy. I tore the thin material from her body, and confirmed my suspicions. She was pregnant. I had killed women before, but . . . never children. My eyes went to the weapon she'd been holding ready. A Murasame. _

_I left the tent, an ice spell at the ready. It flowed from my fingers, stunning several black-clad ninjas that advanced toward me from the side. My already blood-drenched sword found its way into more bellies, throats, and finally, the General stood before me. Masamune raised over my shoulder, I stared evenly at him. He bent down, sword at his feet, and then bowed. _

  
  
  
  


_" . . . I will call off the rest of my troops," the man said evenly. He knew when to surrender._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_***_

  
  
  
  


_I sat, idly placing my hands around the glass of champagne I'd been drinking slowly for the past hour. Champagne was a rarity, I realized, but I had never liked anything alcoholic. It was silly and frivolous, and the feeling it gave was too much like the procedures Hojo had run over me when I was younger. _

_Shinra staff came and went to toast with me and leave to the ballroom floor. _Good, let them enjoy their frivolous dancing and happiness_, I thought. Better them than myself. Some of the higher ranking SOLDIERs stand around, and I silently search the banquet -held in Shinra's honor- for the face of Lieutenant Maelstrom._

  
  
  
  


_"Looking for me?" a voice says from my side. It's a woman's voice, and it belongs to Scarlet, head of the Weapon division of Shinra Incorporated. I sigh inwardly._

  
  
  
  


_"No," I say bluntly. She looks at me as if disappointed._

  
  
  
  


_"Well, that's all right. Because I came looking for you. I just had to find a secluded place away from all the merriment."_

  
  
  
  


_"I'm not here to socialize," I answer. Immediately, I regret my choice of words._

  
  
  
  


_"So what exactly are you here for? Aren't you happy for Shinra?" Scarlet asked, crossing her legs on the stool next to mine. I absently wonder how she's managed to find a tighter, more low-cut dress for the banquet. Twirling the champagne glass in my hand and drinking it to give myself something to do that won't hinder my disgust at this woman, I just shake my head._

  
  
  
  


_"I was told to attend," I reply. Scarlet raises a brow and suddenly gets a glint in her eye._

  
  
  
  


_"Well," she says, slurring the word, "the award ceremony isn't until nineteen-hundred hours."_

  
  
  
  


_"You're right. I'm going to go wait in my room until then," I say. There are so many reasons why I detest alcohol, I remind myself. There are also many reasons for detesting Scarlet. Who hasn't she claimed in this corporation? And then President Shinra stops me on my way out. _

  
  
  
  


_"Ah, General," he says, his grin broad. He holds out his hand, and I shake it in a comradely gesture, even though I do not want to be here. Anywhere but in the presence of those whom I've known my whole pathetic life, never once given humanly kindness. Is it even kindness they afford me? Offer me? No, I remind myself. I am an asset, always ripe for the taking. They ask. I comply. They ask once more. The take of all I have. But I have nothing but myself. I don't belong to myself. I am an asset. My stream of thought ends abruptly as I force the pain to subside. I cannot feel. Will not. "I trust your evening fairs well, now that the Wutains have surrendered."_

  
  
  
  


_"It is a relief, President," I answer truthfully. "The Wutains were honorable opponents, however stubborn they were."_

  
  
  
  


_"So I've heard. We're planning on infiltrating through their resources now. It seems like a wonderful power source. It's secluded by all those mountains."_

  
  
  
  


_"Yes, sir. Many of the Chocobos have died."_

  
  
  
  


_"We can breed more," the President laughed, waving his hand about as if dismissing even thinking of it. "I also have heard about your performance in the final battle."_

  
  
  
  


_"Sir, if I may ask something?" I succeed in keeping the anger from my voice. It's a wonder that I even try. For what? _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Of course, Sephiroth," he says, finally using my name.I find myself thinking back to that SOLDIER's eyes as he attacked without clear thought. Those eyes lacked definite emotion. _

  
  
  
  


_"Why did you order my battalion to cast Berserk spells on themselves?" I asked as calmly as I could, with thinking of the dying Kimono-clad woman's fate. Lifestream. With the spirits. Returned to the Earth. There were millions of euphemisms. I just felt like staying in my room until someone came to get me. I lived in the barracks, my room to myself. But it wasn't really to myself, was it? I had an office too, but it wasn't a safe haven. While the room in the barracks had a number, and nothing else, the office had "General Sephiroth" upon the glass in bold black letters. None of the recruits dared to disturb me, but the Shinra developmental staff, and sometimes the Turks came to deliver messages from the President . . . or Hojo._

  
  
  
  


_"I'll have Tseng explain it to you later, hmm? All that matters is that the war has been ended quickly and efficiently, with your help and mine," Shinra grinned. I took that as my cue to leave, because I could no longer abandon the rising tides of anger, but for reasons I know not of, I stayed close to President Shinra, but inconspicuous, listening as he turned back to his social entourage. A few moments went by and Scarlet sauntered up to him at his side. She whispered a few things to him, of which I only caught snippets. They were relatively far away, and my honed sense of hearing could only pick up so much. But I did know they were talking about me. I paced, scoffed, and brooded in a corner as couples danced past me in their own little world. Now and then I saw Scarlet looking at me. I didn't care that she knew I was there. I hoped she was wondering if I could hear or not. President Shinra laughed at something the woman said and nodded. "Sephiroth is a wonderful general. After what I heard about General Takashiri's wife and unborn child, I am more than ever certain that Sephiroth is devoted to being a cold hard warrior. He sought what Takashiri's most prized possession was, and eliminated her."_

_Something dormant in me snapped with those words. I left, and I did not plan to attend my own ceremony. I slipped silently into the barracks, the fireflies and the moon vexing me with their light. I didn't need light or companionship. I needed sleep. Yes, sleep sounded good. But my train of thought soon died when I spotted a warmth pattern ahead, stretched over the ground. I walked closer, silently. _

  
  
  
  


_"The stars are beautiful , aren't they?" the figure asked. He turned his head toward me, smiling sadly. _

  
  
  
  


_"The adjective beautiful . . ." I scoff, "is wasted upon everything."_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"How do you figure?"_

  
  
  
  


_"You can talk about it on many levels, but on one or another, beauty has a double entendre."_

  
  
  
  


_"I don't like to think about deep stuff," the man responded, and laughed up at the sky. "But sometimes, I think about Makou and Lifestream. It will run out one day."_

  
  
  
  


_"Of course it will," I answer._

  
  
  
  


_"But no one cares, because Shinra doesn't. I'm glad they fired me."_

  
  
  
  


_"Maelstrom," I say, immediately knowing to whom I'm speaking to now._

  
  
  
  


_"The one and only. So, Sephiroth, you've got skeletons in your closet." I raise a brow. I'm not sure what he means. I'm hardly familiar with Midgar slang._

  
  
  
  


_"Excuse me?" I ask._

  
  
  
  


_"I saw you attacking those ninjas. There was something in your eyes that made you the coldest man I've ever known. Hojo can do that to you." He stood up an rolled up the sleeve of his sweater, showing me a faded Roman Numeral Two tattoo on his left bicep. My eyes narrow, and I look at Maelstrom's face. "When I was a kid, I'd bounce back and forth between the streets and a shelter for homeless parentless children. I was an Orphan, alone. I was eight when Hojo came to take me to Shinra. I was promised everything, and instead, I was a Lab rat. By Shiva, I've never gotten over that shit." Aiden Maelstrom's makou green eyes twinkled with something undefinable to me as he rolled the sleeve of his sweater back down. "It was right after you were born." _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_*** _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_"This poor man's sick," Aerith whispered to Cloud, who was staring at the shell of the man in front of him. He sat at the edge of his bed in a large pipe, no longer used for anything important, and so became his dwelling. His head lolled back and he murmured an incoherent slew of babel. His chest heaved and his shoulders shook as he fought to stay right. He gave Cloud an accusatory look, but the boy leaned in when he caught the tattoo on the man's left arm._

  
  
  
  


_"Number . . . two? What does that mean?"_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Lilith curled her fingers, feeling the IV give her sustenence as her eyes drifted open. There was rain. And the hazy cloud that filled her mind. She closed her eyes again and tried to clear away the dream from her memory. There was something very wrong about it. For it to have happened, she couldn't have existed. 

  
  


   [1]: mailto:Lildeharou@aol.com



	24. Resurfacing Nightmares

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz, Jenova's Puppet Strings

E-mail Address: Lildeharou@aol.com (Send all questions, comments, praises flames, etc. here)

AIM screenname:TwiggickenFever (If you wish to talk to the author, she will be happy to respond)

  
  


Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


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Rating: R (Status: ongoing)

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Author's Note: This is pretty short, but it took me a long time to write it in pieces because of the amount of school work I have. I'm completely obsessed this year . . . I need to stop over-working myself. 

  
  


Chapter Twenty-four

  
  
  
  
  
  


The sun rose and Vincent Valentine made his way from the Inn's bar to Shinra Mansion. Drowning his sorrows in liquor only made him feel so much worse, and now he was staggering, infinitely tired, but having a resolve that made him more stubborn than he's ever been. Why am I here? So many memories, Vincent thought. So many bad memories. The dark-haired man's piercing red eyes, altered from their cobalt color many years ago, looked over the place of his second origin, where he was reborn as a monster. His claw clenched unconciously, and he snorted, forcing back a torrent of rage. Rage. Was that all that made him feel alive? He could hardly call what kind of state he was in "alive." 

He was a man haunted by his past, who couldn't let the brief love he once had go. He had never experienced anything like Lucrecia. He had no love until her. It was only fitting that something so blissful should be taken from him. I got her killed, Vincent thought as he opened the passage into the basement of the Mansion, after having walked through the hall to get to the bedroom where the hidden door lay. I was the death of her, and I can never forget that. She didn't deserve to die. She didn't deserve to have her children taken away from her. And she didn't deserve to get involved with me. He practically flew down the stairs and back into his crypt, falling back against the door with a heavy sigh The stain of heat from liquor drained from his cheeks, and he became sobered as he stared around. He looked at the coffin that lay in the middle of the room and shakily made his way to it. The air around him was dense and smelled of years of accumulating dust. He closed his eyes and tried to force back the tears that threatened to shed themselves. He hadn't cried in so long, and it stung his eyes in the most painful of ways, his heart in his throat.

Then, the air changed. The faint smell of Jasmine permeated it, and a ghostly trail of light softened the dank and dark room, floating around and encircling Vincent with its encroaching comfort. Vincent's eyes relaxed, the tears he held suddenly trickling down his cheeks, and that was the end of it. He smelled Lucrecia's perfume, and he thought that if he was going insane, it would be a welcome embrace if he could allow himself to think that Lucrecia was here. 

  
  
  
  


"Vincent." His eyes drifted open and felt her ghostly touch. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the side of his mouth. Vincent's arms instinctively went to cradle her arms on his chest, but he only felt warmth as his hands (one flesh and one claw) passed through them, holding on to his own cloak. "Don't try to touch me. I can only touch you."

  
  
  
  


"I want to hold you, Lucrecia. More than anything . . ." His voice wavered, and tears did fall down his cheeks, falling to soak the material of his cloak. Lucrecia turned him around and hugged him again, kissing his face tenderly.

  
  
  
  


"Vincent, I've been watching over you . . . I want you to move on. I can't stand seeing you this unhappy."

  
  
  
  


"How can I, Lucrecia, when everything reminds me of you? Your son is dead. He died, manipulated by a past he was kept from, and I allowed him to be tested on and uncared for, and then I killed him!"

  
  
  
  


"Listen to me, my love. It could not be helped. Sephiroth brought the world into the picture, and there was no way you could not kill him to make him realize everything. Sephiroth has already explained this to Cloud." Vincent looked at Lucrecia's face with an undefinable look in his eyes. Somehow, the idea of Sephiroth visiting Cloud this way worried him. "He's with me in Lifestream. We've been reunited, as all other souls are. Don't worry yourself with me, Vincent . . . I'm dead, and you're alive. You make it seem like it's the other way around."

  
  
  
  


"But I am dead, Lucrecia. Look at me . . . I'm a monster.I want to join you." 

  
  
  
  


"You're drifting from me, Vincent. I can't make you see what you really are, but you are not a monster! I still love you . . . and I want you to see that. I will support everything you do, but I won't allow you to kill yourself. You're stronger than that, Valentine." Her ghostly lips pulled up into a grin. Vincent laughed softly at the use of his last name, his throat hurting with the effort, afraid that it sounded horrible, but he didn't care.She had called him by his last name on several occasions when he was feeling down, because she knew it would amuse him. Everyone chose to call him by his last name in Shinra, but somehow, when she said it, it was different. And now Lucrecia was here with him again. 

He didn't care if the alcohol was making him delusional . . . it was so real, yet not. He stared hard at her, trying to memorize the way she looked. Sometimes, he was afraid that he would forget, and he would have no trace of her. He reached out to touch her, not caring that his hand would pass through her. And it did. But this time he relished in the warmth that passed over his skin. It was like the tingle of a touch, on some level, and he smiled, passing through her entirely. Infinite pleasure and warmth spread through him as he did, and there was a sense of calm, the kind that Lucrecia had always given off with her love. He turned toward her and smiled sadly when she embraced him. It felt like the whisper of a touch, just like before . . . as if she really wasn't there at all. Perhaps she wasn't. Vincent's nightmares had been more solid than this before. 

  
  
  
  


"I wish you would be near me again," Vincent whispered, and Lucrecia's embrace changed. It became more solid, and a hand throttled Vincent backwards into the nearest wall. The sharp crack of his head hitting the wall made him struggle to remain concious as he slid toward the floor and looked up in stark surprise. Above him stood the form of Hojo, laughing. 

  
  
  
  


"Did you really think it was her? That she would still love you after what you did to her? You were a pathetic excuse for a specimen, let alone a human," Hojo laughed, his sinister grin reminding Vincent of where he was. The effect of the alcohol returned to him, suddenly burning through his blood like a bad dosage of drugs. He shrunk back into the corner away from Hojo, but the man followed, chunks of his face, ripe with decay, falling off and onto te ground. His skin was a rare shade of blue-green, dried veins showing through rot. The smell of it penetrated to Vincent's nose, and stung his eyes with its thickness. Formaldehyde assaulted his senses, and he reeled back, choking in his incapability to breathe in clean air. It was then that Hojo's eyes, burnt from their sockets, fell away in ashes.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Vincent snapped forward, clutching at his cloak, and tried to tear it away from his throat. His eyes welled with tears as he fell to the ground hopelessly, floundering and sputtering for air to get into his lungs until it assaulted his lungs, stabbing like icicles. The bandages that kept his hair in place fell unwrapped and he felt his bones popping with a familiar metamorphosis. A scream caught in his throat and he fought with all of his strength to keep the transformation at bay, but he he felt his fingers growing longer, his mechanical arm becoming flesh, and the claws of a daemon replaced his trim nails that hadn't grown since experimentation, unless of course he became his beast counterpart. He felt rather than heard the screams around him, and slowly, he was no longer Vincent in form. He was Vincent in mind, but the beast's will overpowered his own, and it was out for blood to smear its fangs and claws. The thought of it terrified Vincent, but the darker half of him was aroused by the notion of death at his counterpart's hands. Vincent was disgusted with himself, and terrified once more, for he had no idea where he was exactly. 


	25. All A Dream, The Ending

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain 

A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz, Jenova's Puppet Strings

E-mail Address: Lildeharou@aol.com

(Send all questions, comments, praises flames, etc. here)

AIM screenname:TwiggickenFever (If you wish to talk to the author, she will be happy to respond)

  
  


Dream . . .

Dream of death . . . 

Dream of moonlight . . .

Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rating: R (Status: ongoing)

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The following fan fiction is rated R due to language (although pretty spread out), violence, disturbing imagery, male/male implications, sexual tension all throughout (pretty angsty), and messing with the occult and Kabbalah. 

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Pairings: Sephiroth/ Cloud (dreams, manipulations, sexual tension) Sephiroth/ Zack (Implied Sex), Sephiroth/Jenova(as Cloud)/Clones (Eh, you'll see), Cloud/Lilith Valentine, (implied sex), Cid/Shera (LOTS of sexual tension)

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Brief summary: After the death of Sephiroth, Cloud must deal with his newly found self. Vincent sees somewhat of a kindred spirit in the blonde-haired boy, as he had spent some years as an experiment, and was duped into believing that he was "created," so he decides to help him out with what he's dealing with. A mysterious woman appears, and Cloud seems to just realize that he undeniably loved Sephiroth, and he never really wanted to admit it to himself. However, there are things revealed about Sephiroth that Cloud never knew, or forgot about in his coma (pre-game). With the appearance of this woman, Cloud also realizes that not everything is over with . . . 

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Chapter Twenty-Five

  
  
  
  
  
  


The walls of what felt like an enclosed womb shuddered around Lilith, and too weak, she stared into the eyes of a daemon. She felt him more in mind than in presence, her IV still pumping its sustenance into her blood stream while the heart monitor, its beeping relentless, mirrored the slow and labored beating of her heart.

Lilith didn't know whether she was conscious or dreaming. Everything was hazy, like a dream, but she felt sentient, capable of analyzing her situation. And yet, she did nothing, for she could not. Before her stood a large winged beast, its thoughts assaulting her brain, and she could see the pure animalistic joy of the hunt, of homicidal urge. She thought its chaotic mind much like hers, found herself spinning into darkness, and staring into the eyes of Vincent, her true father. Sitting, hugging his legs to his body, and completely naked, he seemed fragile and easy to break, and somewhere inside her, excitement flared to match the beast's passion for blood, for power.

Vincent's wide eyes stared at her, considering the implications of her being within his mind. Their crimson color shone like humanity, and brought her down from her animalistic high, her skin left tingling with unused energy. A few moments seemed like an eternity as Vincent turned away, clutching his head as if a terrible migraine was afflicting him. 

  
  


"W-why . . . are you here?" he struggled out between bared teeth. Lilith looked down at her own hands, finding the needle embedded in her vein gone. She looked up once more and felt an ever growing confusion. 

  
  


"Am I dreaming? . . . your death?" She cocked her head at Vincent, who was struggling for dominance between himself and his beast counterpart. Undoubtedly, he was losing. 

  
  
  
  


"JENOVA! . . . I sensed her in you all the time . . ."

  
  
  
  


"What are you talking about, Vincent?!" Lilith knelt by Vincent's side and watched as he struck her down almost with indifference. 

  
  


Lilith! Get back! What's going on here?!

  
  


Cloud . . . help me . . . he's killing me . . .

  
  


"I should just let it consume me . . ." Vincent said, sitting up. He shook terribly, looking like a wraith, with his sunken in cheeks and gossamer black hair turned limp and messy. Lilith lay limply on her back an arm's length away from him. She stared up at him.

  
  
  
  


"This is about Lucrecia."

  
  
  
  


"What do you know about her? You know nothing.You are the reason that she's dead," he said, only noticing how cold it sounded after the fact. His true thoughts had finally come out into the opening, and now he couldn't meet those penetrating green eyes.

  
  
  
  


"And I pay for it with every memory that courses through me!" Lilith screamed at him. She stood above him and laughed. "You're such a fool, Vincent . . . how could you have thought you were ever worth anything? I'm glad mother is dead. I killed her. I killed Hojo. I killed brother. I'm glad you're going to die now. I hate you."

  
  
  
  


"What are you saying?" Vincent stared pathetically at her.

  
  
  
  


"I am Lucrecia, Aerith, Hojo, and Sephiroth. I am the universe. I am JENOVA. Have you ever wondered why your nightmares were so real? Why Lucrecia haunted you? I inhabit the mind, Vincent. I plauge it. And now, you will die at Cloud's hands, and I will guide him. His soul is rich with poison. This pathetic planet will feel it course through its roots, will feel my power as I absorb it and make it a part of me."

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  


Cloud dodged a deadly blow as Chaos-cloaked Vincent swiped a massive clawed arm at his face. He didn't want to harm the beast because it was a part of Vincent, but he was finding that the area around them could not contain his friend's new bulk. The beast kept charging at him, and Cloud was finding himself quickly tiring from circling the four cornered small hospital room. The walls were getting a full run-through by Chaos's horns . . . it just wouldn't do. And where could he go? Outside the hall people were screaming and frantically scrambling to safety. Lilith remained outside the doorway, where Cloud rested her against a wall. She seemed as if a limp doll. She was softer and more feminine. She didn't seem as imposing . . . so much like her brother. Suddenly, Cloud felt his mind being invaded like so many times before, and his arm jerked forward in a skillful swipe with his sword, catching the ramming beast off guard, and slashing it across the chest.

  
  
  
  


"Blood!" its shrill bloodthirsty voice screeched. The leathery wings tore open from its back and it let out a horrible sound. Cloud seemed unfazed, his eyes clouding over. In his mind, he was trying to combat the overwhelming urge to hurt the Chaos beast, but he was increasingly growing agreeable. He stalked forward with calculated steps and held his sword up over his shoulder. He stared into the beast's eyes and ran it through with the sword as it cast a fiery beam skyward. 

  
  
  
  


"Masamune," Cloud whispered to himself as it clattered to the floor. He held his bloody palms to his face and slowly began to work it into his cheeks, laughing with an almost jovial manner. The Chaos beast fell forward and fell away, revealing a shattered and dead Vincent tumbling to the floor. He stared impassively at the dead man, seeming almost intrigued, but instead headed toward Lilith.

  
  
  
  


"It's ours . . . all of it . . . ripe for the taking," the woman said as her eyes popped open. Cloud nodded and helped her up. As he walked away, carpeted floors in the Shinra building appeared before him, and he was trailing blood as he held the headless JENOVA in his arms as he walked on with a purpose, her beautiful prose filling his thoughts, making his lips curl upward. 

  
  
  
  


Sephiroth's ten-year-old broken fingers curled toward the center of his palms painfully, making his hands into tight fists. 

  
  
  
  


"I'll get back at the world . . . I'll get back at you all . . . just you wait and see."

  
  


* * *

December 15th, x day, x month, x year

0400, SMT (Standard Midgar Time)

  
  


The two guards looked at each other. One was short and fat, the other was an intelligent-looking mousy woman who stared down at her friend through wireframe glasses. The shift was tight tonight, and they would have to be very cautious with one such patient, namely Sephiroth Valentine, who at that moment was being escorted back to his cell, more docile than usual. He stood between Biggs and Maelstrom, his hands and feet shackled. The usual straight jacket to keep him restrained was surprisingly unnecessary. In his arms, he carried the notebook he'd been pouring over for two weeks. There were many like it in his cell. It was the only thing that kept him restrained, to let him right. 

Jesse, the woman guard looked at the notebook, then to Sephiroth, and then to the pile of others like it in his cell. She figured he acted out against the asylum because he was lonely. No one visited him. His murders were interesting. They intrigued her . . . he had a complex she had never encountered.

  
  
  
  


"What are you staring at, wench?" He snarled. "I am your master. You will bow before my supreme power."

  
  
  
  


"Of course," she smirked, mocking him as she bowed. Biggs and Maelstrom stuffed him into his cell and locked it behind him. 

His was a sickness that could only be studied in Neurology and Psychology that dealt with Neurological studies. Sephiroth Valentine's seizures left him with the idea that he was a supreme being. He often referred to himself in the third person after a great spell. The trial revealed that his murders were performed while in this state. His kill count numbered over three hundred, not counting the persons he'd killed during the battle in Wutai. It was rumored that he'd gone mad years before the battle, however. 

Jesse watched him scribble in his book through the window and shook her head, pitying him. His own father had experimented on him, using him as a guinea pig . . . and two months later, after knowing the results, had committed suicide. His son would grow up with the military drug afftecting him in such psychological ways that they would never be fully comprehended. The only person that had ever cared for him was a girl named Aerith Gainsburough, but that had also been his first victim killed in cold blooded murder. 

  
  


"She told me that she wanted to know the real me . . . but I didn't understand . . . .I just didn't understand . . ."

  
  
  
  


These very words were told before the jury by Sephiroth himself. He was a man shrouded in paranoia and pain . . . he was an experiment gone wrong . . . never fully realizing how far from human he really was . . . but always pretending he was. 

  
  


El Fin


	26. Interpretations of FD,FLR written by the...

Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain is a huge, gargantuan fan fiction for Final Fantasy VII that I did in the summer of 2002. It totals 25 chapters, and is approx. 120 pages in length, so it's a nice read. 

To those of you who didn't get the hint that I'm obsessed with Final Fantasy VII by my Xanga, or my website, then this will definitely drive that point home. It's insane. It sheds light on all of thetheories I've had about Final Fantast VII. Those who have talked to me about Final Fantasy VII know my beliefs on the game, and here I put those theories to use. 

FD,FLR takes place immediately after Lifestream saved the planet from Sephiroth's Meteor summon. How immediate? Cloud is standing on the Highwind watching Lifestream cure the planet in the opening sentence. Yup. 

So, the story is basically like this: Cloud simply doesn't know what to do with himself once everything is over with. He's lost and cannot find himself, and besides, now that his tie to Jenova is supposedly (yes, suppedly . . .*ominousness*) over with, he feels like he shouldn't be feeling such a great sense of loss, but he finds himself yearning for Sephiroth to be alive again . . .so much so that he wills Sephiroth to him. I say he wills it, but Sephiroth came to him of his own volition. He's still under the sway of Jenova, so it's actually not Sephiroth, but Jenova, and she tells him everything he wants to hear, even coming to him as Aerith. That's important. 

All righty, so Cloud starts to think about Nibelheim, so it brings him to the thought of Zack and his time spent as an experiment in Hojo's lab in the Shinra Mansion. He remembers the events he couldn't remember before, and then even remembers an event where his tie to Sephiroth was so strog that he experienced one of Sephiroth's memories. 

Vincent decides to help Cloud with this process, because he feels that they are very similar in their feeling of loss. The come upon another Sephiroth clone. Her name is Lilith, and she is Vincent's daughter!b Yes, and Sephiroth's half-sister. In the story I had Lucrecia live a year longer to give birth to Lilith, and die in the process of giving birth because Hojo could care less about having done the job properly. It wasn't like when he took Sephiroth from Lucrecia, because he actually cared then. Sephiroth is his primary specimen, remember. 

Hojo tested on Lilith simply as a replacement for Sephiroth in case he died during his long experimentation. She was pretty much neglected for her whole life, kept isolated as a "control." (Yes, Hojo is a sick, sick bastard) 

I made Lilith the third Jenova clone, because if you remember Aerith's "This guy are sick" Squaresoft folly, it was in a pipe where they found the second Jenova clone, a poor bastard with little to no free will. 

My explanation? Hojo didn't number the clones until much later, and made Lilith third because that's how Hojo identified her as the control, as being "tertiary." It also stands for "Holy Trinity" because Lilith is literally Jenova, and it's an implanted irony on my part. None of the characters realize this however. Their memories of "Lilith Valentine" were implanted. 

Yes, it's twisted as hell. I love it. Cloud actually has sex with Jenova and Sephiroth at the same time, though he perceives it as only Lilith. In the back of his mind, he imagines it's Sephiroth because it IS actually Sephiroth. Hahahahha, I know. I'm a strange, mentally ill person. 

In the end, we find out that the whole events of FFVII were in Sephiroth's mind because of Jenova experimentation. Yup, Cloud never existed. Cloud was a figment of Sephiroth's imagination because he was so alone that he imagined someone to control in order to please Jenova. Essentially, Sephiroth was a controlled experiment, and his accepting Jenova was never fully realized because Jenova made him insane like the Sephiroth clones, and he makes little sense to anyone . . . when he talks to people, he says he's a god, and people laughed and locked him up in an insane asylum. 

Hojo never made any Sephiroth clones because after the results with Sephiroth himself, he was disgusted with himself and committed suicide. So there was never any threat to the planet. 

This is essentially a story that depends on Hojo and Gast being less monstrous than in the game, so Jenova never gets so far in attempting to destroy the planet. 

Why is this important? Because Hojo and Gast, and any other scientists and students that messed with Jenova, in my opinion, were totally responsible for Jenova almost destroying the world. Ergo, humanity will ultimately destroy itself. 

Another variation on man being born with original sin, for all of you Christians. 

----- Go there to read the revised versions of chapters, with no typos or awkward grammar.


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